Sleepwalk
by Haraya
Summary: Tokyoite Yaoyorozu Momo and proxy shrine priestess Todoroki Shouto believe life is but a dream until the day they don't. As they sleepwalk the tightrope of one another's realities—involving brothers and co-workers, rock bands and wrist bands, and all the threads that bind us—they come closer to meeting their true selves and hopefully, inevitably, each other. Your Name x BnHA
1. Momo, September 5

Characters by Horikoshi Kouhei from his manga _My Hero Academia_. Plot based on the movie _Your Name _by Shinkai Makoto. I own nothing except this fic.

For Daisy, who gave me the idea.

I don't know how to write dialect yet but note that for this story anyone who doesn't use contractions has never lived in Tokyo.

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**September 5, Morning**

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Dreams are odd.

He read somewhere that they were just memories of the things we've seen for the day settling down into our brains and mixing with the rest of our older, worner recollections. Like paint on a pallet. Dyes in hot water. And because we like to overreact, blow things out of proportion, the memories, once tainted and impure swirl faster and faster, taking more of the things they are not until our muddled minds are full to the brim with a familiar, surreal solution, so full it is all we could think of, and all we are until morning light takes up its space. Dreams.

Todoroki Shouto was dreaming.

His wife was pregnant. He didn't have one in real life, of course. He was watching her fold paper crane upon paper crane on the sofa in their sala. Said it calmed her nerves. She hummed a song she didn't know when they first met, but one he taught her on nights he was homesick for a certain smell of trees he was never going to inhale ever again. She would sing it when she knew he felt alone. She would sing it when she was feeling happy.

He was further from alone than he had ever been.

Their child was fast asleep on his lap. He made his first wish today, after Shouto taught him how to properly snap disposable chopsticks in half. When he said dreams came true sooner when you took a nap after making one so that his wife could have a few more hours of rest all for herself, the four-year-old obediently crawled into his embrace, wide-eyed, and slept.

Shouto will do the dishes tomorrow. Now, his wife was asking for their son. He laid him on her lap, next to her swollen belly, his sibling. She asked one more thing of Shouto and he kissed her.

He lit a fire and they use the cranes for kindling.

The fire they build upon their wishes spark in the colors of a disturbed atmosphere, the ripples of space folding in upon itself. Paint on a pallet. Dye in hot water.

He knew he had had this dream before, had lost this dream a thousand mornings before this moment. But every time he got to this point, next to her, looking into her eyes as she opened her mouth to call his name, he knew for certain that this time, surely this time, he wasn't going to wake up, and he wasn't going to forget.

_Shouto..._

Shouto.

_Hey, Shouto._

_Shouto! Come on, sweet cheeks, nii-san's leaving._

It was one, two, four, seven gentle slaps on both cheeks that has her open her eyes to the six o' clock sun. They latched on immediately to the grey ones of an older blond man who was now smiling down at her.

"Good. You're awake. Didn't sleep well last night?"

"I was reading..."

"Of course you were, sweet cheeks. Well, I'm off. Don't overwork yourself next time, okay? Let's have breakfast together when I come back. Love ya!"

There was nothing familiar about the man nor menacing. He kissed Momo on the forehead and she thought it's nice to have other kids in the house.

Only...

This wasn't her house.

The posters on the concrete walls were missing, and her bookshelves, and her desk, and the door to her walk-in closet, and her everything. The smell of breakfast was in the air when it wasn't even supposed to be able to trespass the second floor. At least the ceiling was as far as she remembered... but the Swarovski crystal chandelier was nowhere to be found, instead replaced by a plain fluorescent bar. A quick roll of her head to the right revealed she had been sleeping on the floor.

"Nee-san, Obaa-san!" the voice calls from somewhere she can't see, "I'm off!"

Momo had no sisters or brothers and she didn't live with her grandmother. She didn't sleep on a futon when the option of a goose feathers mattress was available. She certainly didn't sleep with the sliding windows open, painting a picture-perfect view of a countryside wiping the last of sleep from its puffy sky-blue eyes. She didn't have a sliding window, period—what she had were sliding glass doors to lock during her absence and at sunset, and dark drapes to block out the sleepless city lights.

A breeze flew in and the warmth her blanket emitted smells different. She _felt _different, like her body weight had decided to redistribute itself to places she normally wouldn't think about, and the hands that raise themselves to rub at her eyes were large and fair, rough at the finger pads and palms, and veiny at the back.

On top of everything, her bladder felt like it was about to burst.

For all her practicality, Momo knew magic when she saw it. Or liked to think she would, never having actually experienced anything. If this were a dream, she would have waken from the shock ages ago and even if she didn't, she was determined to stay in a world where a mountain watched over people's open houses while they sleep for as long as she could. It's not like she would lose time back in her real life anyway, or the... body... she was born into. Hopefully.

Shit.

"W-wait! O-onii-san!"

Oh god, she sounded like a pubescent _boy_. Something like the voice Kaminari-san assumes whenever he tried to talk with Jirou, the one that automatically insured his failure. It rang in her ears like an unwelcome voice track in her headphones except she wasn't wearing any and _god _she really needed to take a piss. Momo resolved to ignore how _this _voice sounded for now.

It was hard running with a body one wasn't used to using and even more har... _awkward _when that body happened to be made up of pieces she never dreamed of owning. Too distracted to take in how alien this house looked to the mansion she grew up in, Momo thanked her lucky stars to find that it's small, simple and easy to navigate and soon she was face to face with the man she assumed was her brother.

_This person's brother_, she corrects herself. _Shouto's. _"O-onii-san..."

"Sweet cheeks, you need anything? I got... ten minutes to spare. Should be enough time to get to the station before the train leaves. Don't worry, I won't forget your takeout later."

"Um."

Momo sucked in a breath but even that felt _weird. Focus. You need to make it through today as normally as this person would. To enjoy it. Bear this for your holiday, Yaoyorozu! It's such a small price for 18 hours ahead at the countryside! _"Um, you _are _my big brother, right? Because we, we live in the same house... I guess..."

The brother raised an eyebrow and laughed after taking a good look at her. "Only on weekends and holidays, Shouto. Heh, are you sure you should be running around already? You don't sound fully awake yet."

"R-right! I think. But you are..."

"Your nii-san always and forever, yes."

"Thank god." Momo tries to steady herself, hands on her... or _his_... knees. _It's okay. He won't think it's weird. _"That means I trust you, right? The owner of this bod... I mean, _I _trust you, right? And you care for my wellbeing and you wouldn't _hurt _me, right?"

The man—could she call him that yet? He looked about two, three years older than her—gave her a look she's sure she'd assume too if she had a sister who came up to her spouting everything about their relationship they've already been aware of since her first moment of consciousness. "That's... a given since day one, my only little brother. Man, that must have been a long dream you were having. I'm Natsuo and I'm your second oldest brother. You're Shouto, the youngest of us four. Fuyumi-neechan's our only sister and eldest sibling, she's having breakfast with Obaa-san in the kitchen. Otou-san's... well, you know how he is. I'm off to my uni and am running kinda late. Are you feeling a little less disoriented now?"

_No, but I process information quickly so I'll work on this once we're done. _"Then... N-Natsuo-nii-san, please..." Momo straightened, put her hands down her front, remembered she was now male, adjusted them to the side and bows. "Please teach me how to pee, Onii-san!"

...

Fuyumi-neechan is blond like her brother, so blond that her hair is almost white. She had red highlights here and there but Momo started to think it might be natural after giving herself—or her body—a good long look in the mirror. She thought Todoroki Shouto must be a punk at first but was now almost entirely sure that the red and white of his hair were not the products of an extravagant trip to the salon. _A birthmark and sectoral heterochromia, _she noted. _Ashido-san would absolutely adore this boy._

When she asked Fuyumi-san if they could perhaps go to school together so that she didn't get lost, the much shorter woman laughed and said the daycare is in the opposite direction from high school. "But don't worry, Tenya-kun always picks you up. If he's feeling lost too, I'm sure Izuku-kun could find the way for all of you once he joins your party. Besides, I usually leave sooner since I practically open the building. If you still feel bad after breakfast, leave the chores, okay? I'll do them when I get back. If Obaa-san doesn't beat us to it." Of course, Momo swept the floor and tidied the supplies used for making breakfast, mildly ashamed of herself without knowing why exactly.

Tenya-kun turned out to be a much taller boy with a square face, square shoulders and square, almost shining glasses. Momo instantly thought he's the reliable type, probably a class president like herself. She imagined they'd make a good pair walking together: an upright boy with an undercut and a military stride, and an odd one who looked like a model sans the catwalk and swagger. "You look like you are in a daze today, Shouto. Did you get enough sleep last night? It is not right to be staying up late, especially with the exams coming up."

"I was reading. Probably a bad move, huh?"

"Unless it was something academic?"

"Uh-uh. It was an anthology..."

"Really? I am surprised, Shouto. You never seemed to be the type to like fiction."

"Is that so? Er, just trying something out."

"Again, you surprise me. 'Trying something out.' You seem like a new man today, Shouto."

He smiled. Momo decided she liked him. "Um, the story I read last night was about a man who's surprised when his friends start asking him about his first girlfriend because they recently saw her. But the truth is, he only made her up to show off to them when they were highschoolers..."

Izuku-kun was shorter than Momo—Todoroki-san—but his mossy explosion of frizz reaching up to the heavens gave him the illusion of additional height. His smile was a warm thing that suits the vastness of the countryside skies and Momo found herself drawn to him. "Your brother told me to watch out for you today, when he passed by our house," he greeted Momo. "Said you might need it for some reason."

"He _has _been looking at everything as if with fresh eyes this whole morning, Izuku. Almost fell into the rice paddies near Wheel's Creek while staring up at the birds."

"Ah. That was what Natsuo-senpai meant then?"

"Thanks for grabbing my shirt again, Tenya-kun. And, yes, I guess that's what Natsuo-san- onii-san meant."

"_Kun_? Heehee, how cute, Shouto. Oh, I had a dream about you last night. You moved to Tokyo to work in a fancy restaurant with an older boy with really deep eyebags."

"R-really..."

"How strange, Izuku," Tenya observed before Momo could finish swallowing her spit. "Could you perhaps be predicting the future?"

"I am not sure cause there was a girl in our high school uniform walking with us to class in his place. She had dark hair in a high ponytail and she kept folding tiny paper cranes as we went though I could not see where the paper was coming from. She did it so fast, it was like they were just falling from within the palm of her hands."

"Paper cranes... perhaps she was wishing for something."

"I thought so too. I was about to ask her but I woke up. I knew we were close to her the way we are close to you, Shouto, though none of us have ever met her. What do you think? Why had she been folding paper cranes? And what were you doing in Tokyo?"

Momo stared at the school building up ahead, wishing to gods that the bell rings or some other distraction occurred. _What was I doing in Tokyo? I live there. The boy with deep eyebags is all my, our co-worker ever talks about. My classmates call me the origami dispenser and my record time for folding cranes is 2.4 seconds. Last night... last night, I bought 101 disposable chopsticks on impulse and snapped a hundred of them for good luck I don't really need for anything._ _Nothing at all. What had I even been thinking?_

Momo could feel a headache coming on; was the boy Izuku psychic? Should she worry about assuming someone else's physical existence? Was it bad that she didn't want to stop, not yet, not with the smell of grass in her nose, not with how refreshed she felt, walking 30 minutes in the countryside with pleasant company and not a care in the world, save maybe for the next time she'll have to use the toilet again? Too much. There was too much going on at once. She wondered if it was too off for her to try falling into another rice paddy, this time deliberately.

"Erm... maybe she was-"

"DIE, HALF AND HALF!"

Momo was a city girl whose natural response to sudden scandalous noises in near vicinity was to walk faster without letting people notice immediately nor flinching. So Momo walked faster without letting people notice immediately nor flinching. But instinct had her turn towards the general direction of the voice to find a basketball hurtling straight at her face and she barely had time to skitter away, letting out an involuntary sound in the process.

"Good morning to you too, Katsuki," Tenya told someone. The ball somehow ended up in Izuku's hands and he threw it at a scowling blonde who caught it with without looking.

"That was _supposed _to hit you," Katsuki nodded at Momo, "except your reflexes are shittier than usual today so you are welcome for sparing your damn- what the _fuck _are you doing?"

What? No. She was just standing there having a polite conversation with someone who just tried to give her a concussion like the lady she was. But Katsuki looked like he was asking a serious question so Momo turned to her companions. Tenya looked away at eye contact, patted his pockets for something, then hurriedly took off his glasses to clean with his shirt. Meanwhile, Izuku was giggling almost embarrassedly. "Why? What's the matter?"

"Shouto," Izuku managed, "you, um, you look... really cute. Like a _girl._"

Momo bristled and readied her breath for an intensive sassing session but remembered herself in time... oh. Knees together, shoulders hoisted up, arms stuck to the torso, fists in front of her—_his_—chest. Yup. A particularly feminine stance that very possibly looked out of place with _this_ young man's figure if his friends looked _this_ shocked.

"People look like people," she said instead, straightening at a pace that preserved her dignity but also ensured they take immediate notice of the difference. "Am I not allowed to react that way?"

"Um, not really, but maybe catch it like a normal fucking person next fucking time." Katsuki shifted the basketball to one hand, hoisted it over one shoulder with his elbow out. "Doesn't matter. I am crushing you at practice anyways. Don't you dare zone out on me!"

Momo made sure to ask only once Katsuki had stomped out of earshot. "Practice...?"

"More like practice on not slamming the ball in his own team mates' guts," Izuku sniggered as they went after him. "Good thing they decided to invite the next village's high school to compete this year. Might finally teach Kacchan to stop competing with literally anyone he sees moving."

"September... September. Oh! The Sports Fest is coming up!"

"Yup! Today is the fifth. There really is something about knowing it is literally just weeks away, is it not? Practice is gonna be hell under our coaches from now on."

"And our Senpais, at least on your part," Iida added. "Imagine: in cities, school administrators need to actually hold meetings to group their students into multiple teams!"

"Weird, right?" Izuku shook his head. "Teams as in three or four, not just in twos! Imagine going to school with that many people."

"It's... good that our competitions could be a lot more interesting with outside help." Momo wondered how far away Itomori was from the rest of the world as she learned their town was called from the high school building.

"They probably would not have enough players to a group if they tried dividing their sports teams in half either," said Tenya.

...

Momo assumed that her classes today were straightforward and interesting if only she paid attention. It was not like her to be distracted—her ability to focus on important, boring things was far advanced for her age based on both psychiatric evaluation and personal experience—but the clouds seemed to be moving in the most interesting ways as were the people surrounding her. It was unfortunate that Todoroki-san did not sit by the window but his height allowed Momo to take a peek over a couple of sleepy-looking heads without too much difficulty. After spending the first period just looking around and taking everything in, she started to write a short thank you letter to Todoroki-san at the back of one of his notebooks that did not lack apologies for using up his resources (the notebook page among others) and possibly causing mild to moderate strains in his relationships because of her ignorance (the whole affair with Katsuki). But she was halfway through the letter when the teacher said something that caught her interest.

"Think of the daytime as a kingdom ruled by the sun, and the night as one of the moon," said the pretty woman with cattish, midnight eyes behind the red frame of her glasses. As she spoke, she drew a semi-circle which was both the earth and the lower half of a clock. She drew two small castles from both ends of the arch, a person walking between them and the hands of a clock moving from 6:00 to 6:05. "Following this logic, every one of us are citizens of both kingdoms, changing residency twice a day. But at twilight, _kataware-doki_, we are neither. Pretend also that the walls of the two kingdoms are our concept of what is real. As we travel from one country to the other, our path is surrounded by the things that do not exist within our two territories—in other words, things that we usually do not believe to be possible. None of these can penetrate the walls of either kingdoms, but at _kataware-doki_, we are at the mercy of the forces we sometimes describe as magic."

As the teacher finished her little drawing with the stick man making it to moon kingdom and leaving the path of magic (represented by shooting stars falling up at its head) behind, Momo felt... Todoroki-san's hand touch his... or her... left cheek. It had been several hours but it still felt vaguely different although the skin of his face didn't weigh anything to her anymore. She raised the same hand. "Yes, Todoroki-kun?"

"Sensei, is it possible that we may be compromised shortly before dawn as well?"

Sniggers bounced of the classroom walls and Momo became very aware of the fact that everyone was looking at her. But instead of sneering expressions, Todoroki-san's classmates seemed to be more in awe or at least preoccupied with the fact that he—or his body—had just asked a question in the first place. Momo blushed anyway. She wondered if there was anything wrong with the way she spoke.

"Very possibly, Todoroki-kun. But _kataware-doki_, twilight, is more commonly associated with mortals touching the unknown—or vice versa I would say—in _our_ literature. If you have read _Wind in the Willows _by American author Kenneth Grahame..."

"'The Gates of Dawn,'" Momo continued with a nod, "is when or, still using our analogy, _where _Pan comes out to play his pipe."

"Pan is the god of the forests in Greek mythology," the teacher explained to the rest of the class, looking extremely amused. "protector of wild things who, according to Grahame's adaptation, casts a spell of forgetfulness over all he helps during the dawn. He operates outside our two kingdoms after the dark and before the complete emergence of light. The fact that we can come up with such entities and remember them to the present age suggests there is still a wild thing within us humans that does not belong to four walls and thus needs to take charge even if only for a few minutes a day. These little wigglers are bound to attract their god's attention at _kataware-doki. _Todoroki-kun, is that what you meant when you said 'compromised?'"

Again with the laughter, louder this time. But Momo had already decided she liked this teacher very much. "I suppose it's the civilian side of me that worries, Sensei."

"Naturally. Human ego is an uptight, tightlipped control freak, positively narcissistic. But _kataware-doki_, or the events that transpire during this period does not follow our sense of what is right and wrong. And the primal side of us doesn't much care for the laws of the two kingdoms. Love, for instance, can be argued to be the biggest crime of this age. If at _kataware-doki_, unconditionally caring for a companion regardless of their flaws and identity is not only natural but normal, in our realm of the real it's a violation of the very foundations of our survival. That's why, I think, some of us initially have negative reactions to this magic the first time we are exposed to it. Isn't that right, Bakugo-kun?"

"Wh-why me, you-! S-sensei! Why me?!" The class roared and Momo found herself laughing with them.

At recess, after she had gotten over how "miraculous" the salad was ("Is this locally produced? Oh my god. I think I could live here forever,"), her discussion with the mildly confused Tenya and Izuku returned to their literature class. Apparently, it was still hard to start calling Nemuri-sensei "Kayama" in respect to the high school transferees who were slowly starting to integrate into their longstanding society (hopefully the Sports Fest speeds things up a little bit) and wasn't it so darned _provincial_ for your homeroom teacher in the first grade to follow you all the way up to high school, maybe even up to the final year? And Todoroki-san, apparently, had not voluntarily raised his hand in class for the past ten years save for that one time Eijirou dared him to make a scene which made him announce "Sensei, I just want to say that Koji is a hot mess and we all believe in him as should everybody," in the sixth grade, apparently sending the boy deeper into his quiet spell rather than encouraging him to speak up more ("He would not talk to us for months until we saved up and gotten him Candy," Izuku remembered with a shudder).

"Since when did you start reading Western literature, Shouto?" Tenya asked Momo. "I do not remember you ever mentioning the books you've read."

"Um..."

"Tsuyu-chan said you looked so _alive _from where she was seated," Izuku stressed. "Not suggesting you are dead on the inside, Shouto, but it has been a while since we last felt you were excited about something. Or if not excited then just, like, really concerned."

"R-really, now. When, when was the last time?"

"Erm-"

"I am curious, Shouto," Tenya declared. "It seems _kataware-doki _as a literary motif interests you. May I ask why?"

Perhaps it was because she hasn't known him for so long yet, but Momo wondered if Tenya's close friends could hear intention in his voice better, or in the tone or maybe even expression. Her only hint that they were expecting to have struck a chord with Todoroki-san was that Tenya did not seem to be the kind to cut in on conversations and Izuku was very determinedly looking at him and not Momo.

She swallowed. She'll worry about that once she had answered the question. Randomly, she remembered a strange assessment on her she didn't mean to take a peep at on her homeroom teacher's desk: _Throw a pop quiz at her and she wouldn't bat an eye but put her in a situation that requires dishonesty and her perfectionist tendencies force the rest of her mental processes to self-destruct. _She didn't know if she had actually been put in such a situation in class and just forgot or if Aizawa-sensei was just one hell of a good guesser.

Momo decided to go for honesty. "I... had a dream the other day. I was a different person and I lived their life from the time I was awake—in the dream—to the time I fell asleep again. Today... I mean, I've been dreaming the same sort of dream again, only this time, I remember who I am, or who I was before I woke up. But I'm not sure anymore," _if I_ have_ woken up._ "If _kataware-doki _is when magic creeps into our limited perception, I was wondering if the same occurs before sunrise—before we open our eyes each day."

"I see," Tenya said. Then he muttered, "this does feel like a repeat performance of the other day..."

"What does?"

"It was like you were sleepwalking," Izuku piped in. "Don't you remember? You came in with bedhead and would not respond to anyone all day. Just stare at anything that moves and occasionally pinch your arm and wince."

"Like trying to wake up."

"Hmm," was all Momo could say, blushing furiously, failing to realize that no one was talking about _her._

Break ended without further embarrassment and once lessons were over, the time came for basketball practice as promised. Momo followed Katsuki haltingly into the gym amidst a group of awkward prepubescents with that _gym_ look in their eyes that suggested they would have long started living there if only the authorities allowed it. Momo didn't get it. She didn't get the _gym _look, she didn't get _boys _in general. But she thought Todoroki-san might be one and the same as his pack so she did her utmost to get her head in the game, choking on her attempts to swallow down any apprehensions with 1.) not knowing how to do basketball beyond theory, and 2.) being faced off with Katsuki, also captain of their rival group. He performed lividly ("THIS IS FOR EMBARRASSING ME IN CLASS, HALF AND HALF!") and Momo, physically fit though she was, simply couldn't cope.

In ten minutes, they were carting her out. "Take a break, Todoroki," said their coach with a plain expression, "it's just nerves. Shake 'em off, go home early. I recommend taking a nap like the good old days. That's what I used to do when I was your age. Plus a bubble bath if your grandmother will let it, not just a hot soak in the tub. Think that would make you feel better?"

"I'm so sorry."

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty here or anything. I just never thought you'd get the nerves like everybody else, that's all. Not your fault."

"I'm sor... Erm. It, happens, to... the b-best of us?"

The coach gave her a warm smile. "That's the spirit. You've done your middle school team many a good turn. We're not kicking you out that easy." Out the door, she thought she saw Katsuki gaping at the corner of her eye.

But Momo couldn't go home, not when there was so much to see. An idle walk through the perimeters informed her that for a small school, it had been able to form a baseball team and a soccer team asides from the basketball players sweating it out in the gym. None of the teams had more than a handful of spare members so Momo thought one injured member was going to cripple their entire group. But she noted with no small glee that their slim numbers also avoided the formation of girls' league. She herself was a libero for her volleyball team back home but there weren't enough boys interested enough to form the school's "official" team. Momo scoffed, watching a long-haired girl jump the highest she has ever seen a human do to kick an airborne soccer ball straight into Izuku. If an all-girls' team wasn't enough for them, (Izuku had caught the ball in the stomach, then landed straight into his gloved hands and suddenly everyone was running to check on their goalkeeper) they were going to have to start settling for quality.

Turning away from the scene after seeing that Izuku was alright—this happened all the time, apparently—she walked some more and found the baseball field. She stood around staring at practice for a while, then climbed up to the bleachers with the relaxed decision to just sit down and watch. There was a short boy with suggestively beaklike features playing chess with a man in a leather jacket on the highest tier. Momo wondered if it would be better to practice strategies indoors and alone, but maybe the coach was training him to have unyielding focus amidst all the movement and noise.

A girl on one of the benches for spare players noticed and waved her over. "Shouto-kun! Practice over?"

Momo hesitated then drew closer."For me, yes..."

"For you?"

Momo briefly explained how she simply wasn't in shape that day a lot less embarrassed than she thought she would be. The other girl listened and nodded seriously.

"You _do _look a little clammy today, but if anyone deserves an unscheduled break, it is you. Have a sip?"

"Oh... thank you." Momo was pretty sure she couldn't stand being thirsty any longer. The thermos had the kanji for "tea" and "child" engraved on its steel surface and surprisingly housed cool mint tea instead of water. It was about as refreshing as its owner's sunny expression.

"Actually, Shouto-kun... Did you happen to notice if Deku-kun is still in practice?"

"Um." Who now? This girl didn't look like she has it in her to insult people, not in such sweet, sarcastic tones...

"Oh, he probably is. I should not worry! Not at all..." The brunette took back the thermos looking a little shy and Momo inexplicably realizes the kanji spelled out her name rather than a brand of kitchenware. "Oh, but Shouto-kun, you were so _beautiful _last night! I have been watching you for years and it is like the first time every ceremony!"

"I... I was? I mean. Thank you?"

"You are too humble, Shouto-kun. Here."

Ochako unlocked her phone and headed straight for the latest video on her gallery. The camera looked up at an elevated stage lit by pale lights in the late evening and immediately zoomed in on two dancers performing what Momo knew from textbooks as the _kagura_. She made a conscious effort not to exclaim: the prospect of a shrine in this rural town had never even crossed her mind, and now she was witnessing an honest Shinto ritual. Vacationing away from the city, her parents never once brought her to tourist attractions where rituals once exclusively sacred to a people were performed for the benefit of cultural strangers. Her mother blamed exoticism and her father cited capitalism but she never really gave the traditional in general much thought anyway.

But the stage alight with both fluorescent bulbs and torches was just the beginning. Momo recognized Fuyumi in full Shinto priestess garb, glasses off, moving like she didn't need them, never did. And Momo startled further when she recognized herself—himself—_him_, Todoroki Shouto—in _miko_ attire, dancing the _kagura_ next to Fuyumi-san, solemn expression just as perfect as his sister's. He wore the same long white jacket over the white shirt, the same vermilion trousers as was required of a shrine maiden. Pale rice powder dusted his fair face, and his scarlet painted lips and the muted light of the night softened his birthmark to a raw sort of pink. His hair was slicked back with gel and pins, swept upward so that his white locks covered most of the red ones better to complement his head dress. But there was some retained masculine power in his grace, the sure way he flicked the ceremonial bells in his right hand and tossed back his head, in each carefully practiced step he took. Momo allowed herself enough time to realize there was no one beating the drums nor playing the flute in sight... the musical accompaniment was pre-recorded, coming from a trusty pair of speakers booming from strategic locations on stage... and she placed her full attention on the two dancers. She was perfectly entranced and had to make a conscious effort not to applaud. With this video of the boy whose body she now possessed, Momo was certain that today was the makings of nothing less than magic.

"...did not dictate only blood relatives of a priestess may perform our rites," Ochako was saying, "I think I would have seriously considered entering apprenticeship when I was younger. Oh, but that is not to say it should not be you doing all of this with Fuyumi-senpai, Shouto-kun. Our shrine requires at least two active _miko_, right?"

Two active women... Momo supposed Todoroki-san's grandmother didn't count. She dimly recalled that _miko _were commonly virginal maidens—perhaps in modern times, that translated to young single women, unless maybe in desperate cases. And while there had been no real time to stare at their household altar, Momo remembers spotting a frame bearing a smiling woman who was a near-replica of Fuyumi-san. If only the Todoroki were allowed to be priestesses, technically only Fuyumi-san and her grandmother could carry on the family tradition. Had one of the two brothers been required to sacrifice their time for the cause once their grandmother grew too weak to become active? Perhaps Natsuo had declined the call of their ancestors and Shouto didn't. Or, more romantic still, perhaps Shouto himself had volunteered to save his grandmother from the physical strains of religious duty.

Suddenly, Momo felt... jealous, somehow. And undeserving. Unworthy of this borrowed body, this borrowed time living this boy's wondrous life. But her seatmate was waiting for an answer so she said, "It is important for tradition to continue, no matter the circumstances we have now." She felt stupid but it was the best she could come up with at the moment.

"Right? That is how we know you are perfect for the role, Shouto-kun, even if you're a boy. I am glad Kacchan stopped making jokes about it. Oh, speaking of Kacchan, if you listen closely here..."

She moved the tracker forward to a frame where Fuyumi and Shouto seemed to be filling a wooden box each with a white, semi-fluid paste coming out of their mouths. What were they making? Momo tried to remember everything she knew about Shinto rituals but was ashamed to come up short. She let her imagination fill in the gaps instead. Was it a special tonic? A solution that required human saliva to become special to its people, to completely embody meaning? Momo made a mental note to ask Fuyumi-san later. Close to the recorder, Izuku's voice seemed to be having a whispered conversation with a bodiless female voice. Momo caught words like "eternity" and "connections" but a harsh bark cut in, much closer to the phone. "-fine, he is _pretty_, Eijiro. What the fuck do you want me to do about it?"

She found herself giggling. Her father always said that people who recognize true beauty when they see it are the same who would know when their own souls were looking back at them in the mirror. "For all his tough act, Katsuki-san's quite a softie, isn't he?"

"Especially for Deku-kun." Ochako giggled again and Momo felt the gears in her head click quickly into place. "Oh, but not that... not that being good friends with someone means you want to, er. _You know_. But even if that were the case, no one should have to be scared of what they are, right, Shouto-kun? Oh, sorry—I am out of battery." No wonder Katsuki alias Kacchan was being mean to Momo—or Todoroki-san—today.

Momo allowed herself a few seconds to stay in a daze. "For all the disadvantages of rural life," Ochako sighed wistfully, stretching her stubby fingers up to the sky, "I bet we will go to college in Tokyo and find ourselves wishing we were back here half the time."

"I know I would."

"I would love to get out of this town," Ochako continued. "No bookstores, no dentist, no cute cafes, not one! But all the same, I want to bring it with me everywhere for always and always..."

They sit in comfortable silence, idly watching baseball practice going on below them. A charmed life. Momo was living a charmed life, or dreaming of living one anyway. All of a sudden, she had a purpose that wielded tangible results, a family that had time to show that they cared, and childhood friends addressing her with a familiarity unknown to a girl who had been homeschooled all her life until recently. Momo wanted to be a part of that better. She knew if she just asked questions the right way, she would get the information she needed... "It seems only yesterday you, I mean, we were a-all in the first grade."

"Is it not? All ten of us, with Nemuri-sensei being nice enough to follow us in homeroom up till high school. Haay. Extended families really are a lot bigger in the province like they say in movies. Now, we are closer to our dreams than ever together. Ohh, I knew I was going to be an international pitcher right from the start. But you originally went to the dojo with Mashirao-kun after class, right? Until..."

"Um..."

"Oh, I am sorry, Shouto-kun! I- I did not mean to-"

"No, no, it's okay!" Momo tried to suppress new panic blooming in her chest; she had no idea why her new friend looked so genuinely apologetic. "But, er, after failing to make a single shot in practice today, I think I should start reconsidering it." She tried to fake a laugh and was surprised with the pretty sound that burst out her mouth. She wondered how good it would sound on Todoroki-san with his complete control (or lack thereof) over it.

"R-really?"

Momo shrugged and smiled. "Just kidding. But don't count anything that could do good out, right?"

"Right! Right..." Ochako looked at her a little longer then beamed small-ly. "I am happy that... you are at a better place now, Shouto-kun. With your family."

Family? As far as Momo could tell from her short time in his home, Todoroki Shouto's family was perfect and whole as it was. Why would his choosing basketball over martial arts be such a bad thing that the whole community seemed to know about? Wanting to know more but not knowing how to steer the conversation, Momo simply nodded.

A voice called out, "Uraraka! You are up!"

"I am right there! Cheer me on, won't you, Shouto-kun?"

"Of course! Break a leg, Ochako-san!"

Her team mates who had been doing more or less averagely as far as Momo could tell, started cheering as Ochako descended into the playing field. And with stupid, lucid joy that knew no future deadlines, Momo began to see why Anti-Gravity rightfully earned her nickname—powerful swings of the arm that always landed the ball within batting range but somehow always seemed to elude a direct hit with the batter at the last minute. It was almost as if she was guiding the ball like a puppeteer guides its toy to deceive, surprise and entertain those betting on the winning side. And Uraravity kept winning... and winning... and winning...

"Shouto," Tenya panted up beside Momo in his shorts, sweating bullets from a run or maybe several. "What are you doing outside court?"

"They thought it would be best if I took a break today," Momo confessed, feeling her cheeks go red again.

"Why? What happened?"

"I'm... too distracted. I think."

"You think? That is not good. Could this have anything to do with... well, no offense, Shouto. But you _are _behaving rather oddly today."

"Is... that a bad thing?"

"No! Of course not! In fact... well, you look positively blooming if I may say so. I mean that as your friend. But it seems as if your state of mind has been affected somewhat. Could these changes be related somehow?"

"Th-thank you."

"...Did you hear anything after the compliment?"

"Er... Actually, Tenya-kun, can you tell me where the bathroom is?"

"Shouto... are you alright?"

"P-please? I really need to, um. You know."

Tenya looked at her a little longer and decided the sweat beading her brow was from the genuine physical strain of keeping it in. He gave her directions and Momo was relieved to know it would take her less than two minutes to reach in a run. She thanked him and began walking briskly but he called to her with a hesitant tone. His glasses seemed to have fogged over and he looked antsy about something.

"Shouto... remember to use the men's room!"

Oh! Momo was so preoccupied she almost forgot. She tried to thank Tenya-kun for being so thoughtful but the way he was so ardently scrubbing the lenses of his glasses with the end of his shirt that it reminded her that that might look weird. In no time, anxiously, she was in the toilet. She had waited as long as she could, tried to be as excited with her surroundings as possible to ignore her thirst (this wasn't so hard) but she didn't want to give Todoroki-san urinary tract infection. Besides, she couldn't keep lying to Tenya-kun like that. If her nether region didn't burst first, her conscientious heart would.

The crash course she took earlier that day wasn't helpful. ("You stand over the toilet, aim and fire," Natsuo-san had deadpanned. "Honestly, Shouto you've been doing this on your own since you were _three_, we used to call you gifted and everything...") Momo still had no plans to accidentally masturbate with this body and would have attempted several other different ways to urinate earlier if she hadn't been dying to go. Now... probably wasn't the time to do that, considering she was once again desperate for release and not at all keen on making an unintentional mess in public. How on earth did she succeed that morning?

Oh gods. Better get this over with. Unzip. Okay. Just think of something holy, Momo, or something gross. Something far, far away from _that _certain part of Todoroki-san's anatomy. Well, she supposed she was really thirsty right now; Ochako's mint tea felt like ages ago. There was a vending machine at the entrance of this building, was there not? She could get herself juice, no, water, so that she got thirsty (and less in need of a piss) much later than if she got some other beverage instead. Alright, that was out of the way. Any other need to think of? No? Hold on, was that heat going down her legs...? Nope, just your self-conscious imagination, Momo. Stop it! That's your mind doing tricks to get you to look down! Something gross then. Do boys poo the same w- no! No, don't go there, girl! Holy, holy. Gods. When was the last time I prayed? Oh, Todoroki-san and Fuyumi-san. They were so beautiful last night. Do people pray during a _kagura_, or was the prayer in the dance itself?

And then, shame! Thinking about such beauty while using the toilet with a penis! But Momo thought of herself in her own body, sitting on her toilet on her phone with no thoughts on sex whatsoever popping up to her no matter what sort of suggestive material managed to turn up on her Twitter timeline. Peeing was so natural that somehow it carried over the very little innocence she still had now from the days of toddlerhood, or, if not innocence, then that state of mind where nothing you think is ever malicious even if you had the full capacity for decidedly adult thoughts in other aspects of your life and _why is it that even with a different identity, she just had to overthink anything and everything?_

Fortunately, there didn't seem to be anything left to push out of her system anymore. Right. Time to get out of here. Except... well. She washed herself every time with the bidet but there didn't seem to be one in this particular toilet. Should she use a tissue then... no, no dispenser either except the one next to the sink. Did boys just... tuck it back into their pants like unsanitary beasts void of any concept of hygiene? What had she done earlier? Ugh, she had been so absorbed with the newness of the situation that her brain hadn't focused on remembering for future use. She would have taken the time to come up with a solution but a tanned boy with sharp canines and wild red hair came up to the unit next and started unzipping his pants ("Hey, Shouto, feeling better?") so Momo stuttered her Yesthankyouyou'retookind, did the best she could, and left. She recognized him from as one of her team mates when they were split into two for basketball practice but did not look back.

Tenya-kun was at the vending machine when she arrived. Inspired, she lost herself entirely and got a can of orange juice too—she'll hold it in until she gets home, she'll manage like she did earlier. Refreshed, she could do anything, even with a body such as this. Once she had reassured Tenya-kun that everything was fine, perfect even, he began to relax and they fell into what Momo believed was their regular routine of talking and listening. Soon, Izuku-kun would join them for another round of drinks and they would walk home, and maybe she would help her grandmother and sister cook even though she wasn't very good at it... there was always time to learn new things with a life such as this, far away from a desk and the life planner it nestled within, and the tests she had to ace and the people she needed to impress...

She had not wasted the 100 chopsticks at all.

There wasn't any space in her chest for guilt as the sun started shining orange, ready to set over this perfect small town. But Momo allowed herself a moment to hope Todoroki Shouto, wherever he was, was doing okay.

* * *

**A/N:**

I accidentally deleted all my drafts for all my _Angels of Death_ works last year including _Once in a Blue Moon_ chapters so haha. _That's _gonna be a little delayed. But anyways, here's a TodoMomo _Your Name_ fanfic because why not. *plays "Wonderwall"* You already know how this is gonna progress and end but join me for a comfortingly predictable ride with no foreseeable future anyway.

As usual, idk how often I'll be updating this because full-time work is forcing me to rethink all my previous perceptions of time, so here's two chapters all at once cause I'm starved of publishing in general. None of my previous works are discontinued; I'm trying to _write _again and for now that means spewing out what I wanna instead of keeping in time with previous obligations. You've probably heard that before. Sorry. But I _promise _I'll finish everything I've started eventually.

I'll manage to make an AO3 account and post this there too. Somehow. Someday. Yeet.

Someday too, I'll be writing full time and making fanfiction a hobby. Consider yourselves warned.

why can't we make a living out of being nerds, huh.

I listened to a lot of Mitski and returned to _cinema staff _writing this so check them out and leave 'em some love. I like to think one of Todork's theme songs for this storyline is gonna be "Townie." Chorus goes "_I want a love that falls as fast as a body from a balcony / I wanna kiss like my heart is chasing me down / I'm holding my breath with a baseball bat though I don't know what I'm waiting for / I'm not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be._" Momo'll look pretty in a "borka" MV remake. She sings to the rising sun, waiting for your return...


	2. Shouto, September 5

I don't know how to write dialect yet but note that for this story anyone who doesn't use contractions has never lived in Tokyo.

* * *

**.**

**September 5, Afternoon**

**.**

Todoroki Shouto was running late for a job that wasn't his.

It was the girl he was with, Jirou Kyouka's fault, although he couldn't blame her for blaming him for not reminding her. "It's usually Ashido who's the unreliable co-worker, Yao Momo. Remember?"

"I-I suppose..."

"You're too nice as usual," she pants, jogging on the steaming pavement. "At least that's one normal thing about you today."

Tokyo is a mess of smog and people. When she was still in college, Fuyumi-neesan had taken Shouto and his brother for a small tour one weekend years ago but 48 hours had been enough for him to miss the smell of trees for pollution. He had tried not to miss Yaoyorozu Momo's first class this morning to preserve her dignity but the absolute noise and similarity of everything everywhere startled him, and even with a navigation app, he only arrived at her school well into lunchtime. It wasn't as if he detested the city—lost earlier on, fascination overtook his anxiety without notice—it was just he would be more open to appreciating it if each step didn't... hurt so much. Running in particular was proving to be near impossible, and hugging the area beneath his... her... chest was doing little to help. "Where are you going?"

Shouto stopped in his tracks, looking back at the frowning, sweaty Jirou. "We're _here_," she scoffed, pushing the backdoor into a building.

"Right on time. Thank gods." Jirou jolted her card off the time clock and punched Yaoyorozu's in. "I told you I was producing last night. You know I lose track of the days without enough sleep. I thought it was Friday for crying out loud!"

"I do not think I have slept enough either," Shouto mumbled sincerely. How was he supposed to know Yaoyorozu had a job?

Safely logged in in the changing room, Jirou returned to her usual self Shouto witnessed in class today. "Sorry. But Hage's having a sale soon and I have two weeks of tardy-free wages to go before I could afford those headphones. Come to think of it, you've been out of it all day too."

Shouto carefully, carefully buttoned up the front of his uniform facing away: apparently he was going to play waiter for this restaurant for the next six hours. _I think I'm still out of it now. _"Jirou... have you ever woken up feeling as if you are someone else entirely? A stranger?"

"I wake up feeling like that every day but it usually lasts only a minute," a voice quips from the doorway. The girl with pink cheeks and a nametag saying "MINA" had strawberry blonde hair that was more strawberry than blonde. The bags rimming her eyes gave her a mildly raccoonish look. "Unless I'm in love, in which case, I go about my day pretending I'm Senpai's girlfriend."

"You're in love every day Ashido. Does that mean we've never actually seen you for who you are?"

"Maybe!"

She squeezed in with Jirou in front of the mirror, taking off her devil's horns headband and lavishing herself with hairspray. Jirou held back the longer strands of her hime cut with pins so what remained was the clean line of her bangs. Shouto rummaged through Yaoyorozu's bag and found a single black hair tie in the front pocket. He had experience tying up his sister's hair in ribbons but never had locks long enough to do up on his own. Yaoyorozu Momo's reached down to her waist and he had received comments earlier about looking like a whirlwind from commuting to school with his—her—hair down. He had the mind to brush it in the bathroom before class, but after racing to the train and running again to their building, he imagined it looked something like his newly-woken sister's on Sundays when she slept in.

Perhaps still thinking about her outburst earlier, Jirou came up to save him. "Here, let me do that for you."

"Oh... thanks."

As Ashido did her makeup, Jirou worked on Yaoyorozu's tangles gently, dividing them into segments for a braid. Shouto noticed by and by how he _had_ to stare at his new face as the hair got cleared out of the way, when he had dabbed a handkerchief over it, when he clumsily, shyly attempted to smile. Yaoyorozu was a pretty girl, he had to hand her that. And she had the tendency to blush after a run...

"Oh, I see your drift, Yao Momo. Doing something new out of the blue so Fuyumi-senpai notices!"

"Who?"

"She's somebody else today, stop confusing her," Jirou joked letting Sh, Yaoyorozu's side braid hang from off his left shoulder. "Let her figure things out in her own time. You don't mind this though, do you, Yao Momo? You think you're too plain for styling."

"It is... lovely. Thank you. Oh, but do I, do I usually wear makeup?" Shouto asked, remembering the mascara and lipstick he found in his—_her!_—schoolbag.

"Not really-"

"You should!" Ashido chirped. "To match your hair!"

"We don't have time," Jirou insisted, ushering them out into the kitchens. "Now, do you want me to school you in on everything or has the smell of blue cheese snapped you out of it yet?"

Shouto tried to put on a pleading face using someone else's, the one he still occasionally used on his siblings. "Yes please, Jirou. I do not want to make a fool of myself."

"Hold on," Ashido said, looking back and forth at his expression and Jirou's sincere surprise. "Are you playing along or did she really bump her head somewhere? Oh, here comes Senpai!"

Shouto stood still just long enough for Ashido to push a red flower pin up his, or Yaoyorozu's, bangs ("If it's not gonna be me, Yao Momo, you're my best bet!") before Jirou pulled him to work. He was vaguely aware of a tall, slouching man with oddly familiar eyes coming over to Ashido's direction but they did not look at Shouto's and he let it go as another vaguely interesting detail of this unusual day.

After he had told Jirou everything he knew about waiting at restaurants while setting the table (apparently a very small percent of what had to be done), Jirou exasperatedly, worriedly schooled him on the less obvious parts of the job, such as how to properly hold a tray full of heavy dishes up or what to say when someone was so obviously trying to sneak a free meal by being mean. ("Smile, but don't let them walk all over you.") There was barely enough time for him to memorize anything before the trickle of people coming in turned into a stream that forced him away from any further lessons.

Smells he had never before inhaled, dishes he didn't even know existed passed and went from Shouto's sight and hands like fine sand in the wind. But he did basketball and judo; he knew how to move quickly without bumping into anything, how to go around people, how to balance his own and additional weights. He was relieved that all the customers handed in his care seemed to be regulars who asked no questions about the menu-he got all the orders right as far as he knew. Giddy after earning (and rightfully so, he thinks) his first tip from a couple that left the place smiling, he started trusting his guts and the brief observations he made of his co-workers. He poured additional water for someone without them asking, he replaced a child's soiled napkin with a fresh one. When he asked Ashido if he was doing alright in passing, she told him he looked like he usually did and that pleased him greatly. Waiting at the Lemon & Olives was interesting... if only some parts of his body would stop _moving_.

Jirou had to stop him from entertaining new diners when their break time rolled round quarter past eight. He had never been to a Greek restaurant before and allowed himself a full two minutes deciding what to get. Apparently, they had their meals free up to a certain price range, beyond which they had to pay from their wages. He picked something from the latter group. He considered it payment for Yaoyorozu's free vacation into his eventless, calm life under the clean Itomori skies.

"Feeling better, Momo?" Jirou asked him cautiously, picking on her bento.

"I think so." Did he have to make conversation...? He should at least try to make Yaoyorozu appear normal based on his judgment. "Moussaka, right? This is good."

"I think so too," Jirou agreed slowly, "that you're feeling better, I mean. But I thought you started going vegetarian two months ago."

"I did? Well, it has been a strange day so far. I think I will stay strange for the rest of it."

"That's the spirit," Ashido commented. "Watching you order a salad every time was starting to get me depressed." But Jirou had smiled at Shouto's little jest and he was distracted by the reminder of just how _pretty _girls could get. He didn't fluster as easily as Izuku but still felt proud of how far he's come from freezing completely when one of Yaoyorozu's classmates greeted him with a tight hug from behind without warning earlier that afternoon to now, having a conversation in a cramped table with _her_ friends like he would with his own. While his gutsiness hadn't waned with the dinner rush, the warmth of his companions eventually got him to start relaxing enough to fall to his usual silent attentiveness. Nobody seemed to mind and he realized that underneath all the adrenaline buzzing in his nerves, he was content.

"...and _then _I said to her- Goodness! Is it time already?!"

"Gods' _sake_, Ashido..."

Shouto looked where Jirou quite pointedly wasn't. It was the man with strange eyes from earlier, coming in for his break. Instead of queuing up to the cooks with a tray like the rest the crew had, he went into the locker rooms and emerged with a sandwich. Shouto inexplicably realized for the first time that Yaoyorozu and her group were the only female waitresses for this shift.

"Good evening, Senpai! How are you this fine night?" Ashido brazenly called. "Care to join us for a change? You're not gonna get any taller standing around at the back, you know."

"Horrible. No, thank you. I value my quiet time."

Shouto wanted to chuckle at the noise Ashido made—the boy didn't even look up from his phone.

Jirou made a point to steer the conversation away from the man and Shouto didn't even think of him until a few minutes later, when Ashido reached out and yanked one of Jirou's pins off her hair. "Hey! What the hell?"

"Ay! Where did my pin go? Did I drop it?"

On hindsight, Shouto isn't quite sure how things turned out the way they did. Perhaps Jirou was bound by some sort of secret compact because she made a face like realization and settled for glaring at Ashido who was noisily making fuss about missing a pin that wasn't hers. Back inside, the boy she had been eyeing passed their table, stopped stiffly like he was already hating himself for what he was about to do, backed away from what he had stepped on and bent down. And Shouto, completely missing both the point of Ashido's charade and even the stranger's arrival, stood and squeezed around Jirou's legs to reach for the pin.

He bumped heads with the older boy. They hiss from the jolt at the exact same time.

"In the name of-! Tch. _Watch it_."

"In the name of-! er. Excuse me."

Shouto looked up through watery eyes once he had registered the pin was still on the floor. The weird eyes looked at Shouto. Something inside of him screamed that the boy was about to yelp "In the name of love!" like he had been himself. It was how his mother used to cuss, something that sounded embarrassingly old-fashioned but was actually an invention of hers. "The bad things that happen to us we must offer up to time as much as the good," she used to say when she heard her children yell it as they played, too young to know what cursing felt like. "Even anger has a hand in making up the beautiful. It will fade from our hearts faster if only we remember to let it." It had not made any sense to him the last time he heard it but it did in this moment.

Why on earth was Shouto remembering this now?

More embarrassed from imagining the boy sounded like... _home _than actually bumping so closely into a stranger, Shouto scrambled for the pin and ended up lifting it up with the man pinching the other end, their arms level with each other. Again with the symmetry of their movements, and the eyes. They scowled at Shouto, too lazy to really care. The boy let go rather theatrically, and walked away muttering something about the cost of being nice.

In the distance of Shouto's mind, Ashido was saying something.

Shouto blinked, but the vision of the man looking down on him did not disappear. He placed the pin on the table. The afterimage remained.

Except... except this time, the man was not so tall. This time, he was reaching to help Shouto up, smiling, trying not to laugh at the faces Shouto made as he tried to be a big boy and not cry. The sun was behind his kind, kind eyes, not a florescent bulb. And in his head, Shouto succeeds... the face is closer now that he has risen... but it disappears during their embrace because Shouto barely reached the other boy's chest. And a hand would always, always, rumple the hair at the top of his head.

_Such a big boy already, Shouto!_

His heart stopped in his chest. There was a moment of shame, the _I should have known sooner _that didn't happen because it's been _years_ since he last saw him. He should have recognized his own family immediately but there was no longer any space for regret in his swelling chest. The man walking away had dyed his hair black and grown tall like their father, though lanky like bamboo. But there was no denying the blue in his eyes, the slight accent even a decade of living in Tokyo could not completely erase because pain always has a way of revealing where we come from.

For the first time since he was five years old, Shouto was looking at his oldest brother.

"_Onii-san_!"

Todoroki Touya looked back as his brother flew up to him; Shouto could feel the telltale pricks at the edges of his eyes, the warmth that was starting to strangle his throat. "Onii-san, do you recognize me? H-how are you? I cannot believe it, I did not think I would see- Nii-san studies here, did you know, in Tokyo U? Medical welfare, for Okaa-san. He has been looking for you everywhere since he moved here but I, I beat him to it, haha! How have you been? You must be about 21 now, right? Since you are five years older than me. Where are you staying? How long have you been working here?"

"Woah, woah, slow down, kid. You don't act so forward with older men, alright? It's dangerous. I already have a live-in partner."

"You do? Wow, Onii-san! Obaa-san would be so pleased, she keeps asking Onee-san to get a move on and give her grandkids already. She does not want to yet, but if you are ready to get married, you should come home and introduce her. I am sure if you just drop by, just visit even for a little while, everything will be alright, and even Otou-san will-"

Shouto could feel his eyes—his body's eyes—grow a little wider as Touya tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. He didn't say anything, only stared at Shouto. And Shouto's cheeks burned split seconds before he even realizes why.

His brother thinks he—_she_, Yaoyorozu Momo, with her way too mature form and dainty eyelashes—was _flirting_ with him.

"I am not... you do not... of course, of course!" Yaoyorozu's voice reached a high pitch Shouto was embarrassed to make but he bowed with two hands in front of him as was expected of a lady. "Please forget I ever said anything! I am sorry to bother you, Dabi- onii-sa- senpai!"

He ran to the bathroom and allowed himself to breathe in and out, in and out slowly for two minutes. His brother would not... _cannot _know it was him. Shouto was glad that Yaoyorozu Momo was the kind to not usually wear makeup to work because he had no idea how to fix mascara if ever she wore any.

...

Shouto spent the rest of work hours trying to channel his misery into efficiency. But there was too much so that even if he matched orders with tables, walked fast and balanced god knows how many dishes on his right arm, he could not shake off the burning weight on his chest... the additional one, anyway. He thought to appreciate it as distraction from physical discomfort since the happy high he had been riding on earlier had all but faded. But he fully remembered he was somebody else entirely, that the weight that made him stoop a little was not actually something he was used to ignoring, when he felt a hand squeeze his—Yaoyorozu's—bottom as he was turning away from a table to report a new order to the kitchens. He felt shaken by the very idea that that might have happened. Had he been mistaken?

But it came again as he was setting their food down: lamb sovlaki plate, Greek kebab with pilaf rice and two lemonades. And he forgot Touya completely, only became aware of the side braid down his shoulder, the flower in his hair, the vision of his sister crying angry tears before him in her university uniform and one shoe missing. Nevertheless, she had nursed her own bruised knuckles and did not accept their pity, described to them instead how she punched the living daylights out of a stranger. Shouto had been too young to understand what his Natsuo-niisan was cursing that day exactly. And for a split-second, he saw Yaoyorozu's face crying _his_ tears in the mirror about an hour ago.

It is strange how some memories choose to be remembered at the time we remember them. It is even stranger how their sense of timing is almost always flawless.

Shouto brought the man's dish down his head, pulled the chair out from beneath him for good measure. He hoisted it to bring down on the bastard's head but thought _I just got Yaoyorozu Momo fired. _He lowered it to the floor. Then he thought _I already got her fired, _and yelled, "PERVERT. YOUR MOTHER'S LOWEST DISGRACE, YOUR FATHER'S MISTAKE. THE GODS' WRATH UPON YOU AND SHAME ON ALL WHO LOVE YOU, YOU SICK FUCK. PERVERT!"

Jirou was by his side in an instant, hugging him to her away from the scene and spitting curses, literally spitting at his molester. She was shorter than Shouto—Yaoyorozu—but she pulled his head down to her shoulder and led him to someplace he couldn't see. His face reemerged at the kitchens where someone pulled up a chair and sat him down and he's shaking, the sweat on his skin cold. A little white haired man in a suit showed up mildly perturbed but Ashido was screaming something in Shouto's defense as Jirou handed him a glass of water. And then his brother. His brother was there with his tilted head and raised eyebrow and he was looking at Shouto. He didn't think he could stand it, his brother's eyes looking at him without recognizing him again, but he saw anger in them instead of nothing like earlier and decided to settle.

Touya said "Boss, I am clocking out early," and he grabbed his backpack and went out the back door.

The cooks were shaking their heads, and mumbling among themselves. The waiters were outside, cleaning up the mess. Shouto stayed quiet in a daze in his seat. Asides from Jirou and Ashido torn between praising him and bashing the creep, no one seemed to know how to talk to him. When the manager came back from the dining area, Shouto remembered to ask something and to his surprise, the much older man laughed and said, "Young lady, I have just personally assured that fiend he can stick his you-know-what you-know-where after our security escorted him outside. Letting you go would mean forfeiting your service to this establishment for giving us an excuse to do right by society and literally put scum back where they belong."

"So... I am not fired."

"From what angle do you think this is your fault?"

"Nowhere, Sir."

The manager smiled kindly and told him to take the rest of the night off and not worry about his pay or position.

Ashido got off early as well when Jirou had the mind of insisting Shouto mustn't walk home alone (apparently, she herself lived in the opposite direction). She gave Shouto a long hug and kissed his cheek before sending him out into the night. He was almost sure his ears would be enough to keep him warm for the whole journey.

"Momo, sweetheart," Ashido told him at once, clutching his arm so he felt a certain part of her anatomy press against his bicep. Now he was completely certain his palpitating heart would take care of insulation: he could take off his jacket at this point and survive the walk home. "Momo, sweetheart, from what I've learned from being a woman this far, you never, _never _let a man ruin your day. Cause then they would have won."

Shouto breathed Tokyo ozone deep into his chilly lungs. It would be disrespect to Yaoyorozu if he let himself be distracted by her friend showing _her_ body affection after everything he just did for it_. _"I was not planning to." The fading high insisted he spoke more as a distraction from his hammering heart. "My, my sister taught me. So many instances. I just did not realize all this time..."

"Sister? I thought you were an only child."

"Relative. She is older so I call her onee-san. Um."

"I'm so happy you smashed that plate on his head," Mina smiled at him sincerely. "I saw it from my table. You know, I never thought you'd be the kind to do that. That was more like a Jirou thing, but I guess it isn't anymore."

Shouto blinked. "What... what would she, what would I have done? I mean, what did you think I would do?"

Ashido gave him a look. "Honestly? From what I've observed with you these past months, I'd say you'd let it slide. Not because you think you deserve to be treated like that, but because you don't think others think you're worth fighting for."

Yaoyorozu would have done... nothing? "Then... then I guess it is good that today is a strange day."

"You're weird, Yao Momo," Ashido teased and they smiled at each other. Shouto thought if this was what dating was like, just conversations that weren't about love and a relaxed evening stroll with a girl clinging to your arm, then he wouldn't mind it so much. Maybe not at all even.

Ashido stopped in her tracks, gripped his arm even tighter. "Hold on."

Shouto tensed too. There was a sort of scuffling coming from the following alley on the street across them. Suddenly, Touya emerged, hands in his pockets, and slouched the same direction the two were headed.

"Senpai!" Mina whisper-squealed. "I wonder what he was doing there."

Shouto thought he might have swallowed audibly when he and Mina took a peek. It was the creep and his friend, some béchamel sauce still hanging off his hair. Shouto was certain a shattered dish on someone's head didn't necessarily result in a black eye or a bloodied nose and lip...

"Let us go," Shouto whispered urgently, hurrying them past the alley with his head down. "If they recognize us, they might think the management sent him over to do it."

"You think? But I wanna at least kick 'em..."

But Shouto did not hang around long enough to hear them confirm his fear or not—that will have to be Yaoyorozu's problem in the morning. Not that he could care so much, watching his brother walk a dozen paces ahead of them and nursing in his heart the warm implications of everything he had just seen...

"What have you _done_, Yao Momo," Ashido whispered as they closed the gap between their huddled selves and Touya plodding steadily on. "I didn't hear everything you were talking about earlier, but if it was enough for him to run out on his own and go two-to-one against a couple of bigwigs who could sue him in a snap, I'm gonna have to start demanding tips. That's _my _hairpin you're wearing, remember."

"Oh... you can have it back now."

"No, of course not! It's perfect on you. Keep it. Consider it my congratulations on just about being the first girl in the history of Lemon & Olives to have piqued Fuyumi Touya's interest. You sly fox! Wear a braid one time...!"

"Fuyumi... senpai? _That _is Fuyumi-senpai?"

"Um, yes, you dingus, did the bloodrush of realizing Fuyumi Momo sounds cute rattle your cognitive processes in there?"

"Er."

"But what _were_ you talking about earlier and why did you come out of the restroom crying? Did you know, he came up to me after you ran off—came up to _me_!—and asked with a panicking on the inside sort of expression, 'What did that girl just call me? Did you hear?'"

"Well, did you?"

"You were practically shrieking then, you looked so embarrassed," Ashido nodded seriously. "Like the fact it's Fuyumi Touya_ of all people _finally registered in that big brain of yours. Don't worry, I would have shrieked too standing that close to him for that long. But anyways, he looked like a kicked puppy looking at me like that and I felt sorry for him so I said 'Dabi-niisan.' _Why _on earth did you call him 'Dabi-niisan?'"

"I..." Shouto swallowed. For some reason, he noticed for the first time that Ashido's black t-shirt had glow-in-the-dark print that said _Raiders of the Lost Area_. "I had a dream where I was someone else and that person is... brothers with F-Fuyumi-senpai. I do not think I have completely shaken myself awake yet."

"So... you're still dreaming and are currently focusing all your mental energy on excelling sleepwalking with your eyes open, which is why you kept acting like you've forgotten things all day."

Gods among us. Could Ashido be someone who might be able to help him undo whatever it was that had happened between him and Yaoyorozu? Was now the time to confess? Would she be the type to believe him?

But up ahead, Touya entered a Lawson and Shouto was already adjusting to Ashido picking up the pace. No. He would ask for help going back to his old self once he had a clear plan to approach his brother as someone he would recognize.

"I say you're lovesick," Ashido misdiagnosed with a whisper. "You've been all these months. You've been subconsciously struggling with it and are now overwhelmed with the realization."

Shouto had to snigger. It was ridiculous all things considered, but he had to stop once Mina pushed the convenience store door open. She giggled when she dragged him opposite the counter where his brother was: "I forgot I'm out of lipbalm."

They didn't have to stay for too long. Touya simply bought a pack of cigarettes and took them outside. Seated on the curb in front of the store, he shrugged his backpack off, dumped it beside him after rummaging for something and began to smoke, twirling the zippo in his hands with absentminded precision.

"Isn't he just so..." Mina sighed, "_dreamy_, Yao Momo?"

"More douchebag than dreamy," Shouto smirked. It was the word his sister used to describe some of her wannabe suitors, often with a heavy eye roll and an accusing _If I learn any of you are behaving that way... _look for him and Natsuo. "But I guess girls think _that _is attractive."

"Don't put yourself above me, you elitist pansy you," Mina snapped, not tearing her eyes away from the window. "You and Jirou are as bad as the rest of us. But now that I've gotten you to confess, I wonder what it's gonna take for _her_ to finally own up..."

It wasn't his first time in a convenience store. There was a single Mini Stop in Itomori where his classmates would meet up to plan school projects, but he always thought it was rude to come in and just sit and idle without buying anything. Knowing Ashido had all but forgotten about her lipbalm, Shouto got up from their table and got a stick of Mentos. Ashido wordlessly declined his offer, still staring out the window with her chin on her palms, elbows on the table. It was hard _not _to, even for a different reason entirely. Shouto never liked the smell of cigarettes but he would give anything to sit next to Touya at this moment, and talk and be recognized for who he really was and talk some more. He knew Blacks had menthol in them too... he wondered if chewing mints was somewhat similar to smoking them.

Suddenly, the glass wall between them felt like a thousand miles thick. Soon, his brother would finish his cigarette and leave, and Shouto... well, he didn't want to think about that just yet. Would it be inappropriate to go after him? He wished Yaoyorozu was a boy and wasn't from a good family who had a reputation and a job to keep. Or at the very least a flirt like Ashido.

"What's he so mad about?" Touya's reverie had been interrupted by his phone going off in his pocket (a battered silver flip Motorola) and now he seemed to be ranting to whoever it was on the other line.

"Probably his girlfriend complaining about how late he is for their date." Shouto chuckled. His Natsuo-niisan never told him any stories of his romantic adventures if any, and though he was certain his Fuyumi-neesan never ran out of pining lovers dogging her trail, she waved them off politely every single time.

"He says that to shoo us away, silly. He doesn't actually have a girlfriend. At least, that's what I wanna think."

But Touya seemed to get angrier... no, more pissed with whoever he was talking to on the line. He stuck out a middle finger and tapped it impatiently, rapidly on his knee. Then he flicked his still-burning cigarette stub across the street and shut his phone.

"If he comes back in here again," Ashido hissed, "I'm going to take it as a sign that we're meant to be."

"Mm."

"I'm gonna assume he broke up with her and take full advantage of the situation."

"I thought you said he doesn't actually... um..."

Shouto thought he heard Ashido swallow. Touya was slinging his backpack over one shoulder, pocketing his phone... walking into the shop from right behind Shouto's seat.

He can't help turning around to look. His brother was grinding his teeth ("Bitch," Shouto thought he heard), but Shouto must have made a noise because Touya stopped short midstep and looked straight at him.

Yes. Shouto couldn't think why he missed it the first time. The eyes were all their father's-all of half of Shouto's features. This time, they looked back at him with recognition behind a blank face, recognition for someone else but Shouto could not care at this point. He imagined them growing wider as recognition grew into familiarity, familiarity grew into joy because his littlest brother had grown into a man but not quite yet. But Shouto cancelled out that fantasy quickly enough: it could not be more perfect than seeing Touya with his own eyes now, even as he looked away after the longest two seconds of Shouto's life, plodding into the aisles without a backward glance.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god."

Shouto's cheeks ached; he realized he had been smiling this whole time. He turned to Ashido who was covering her mouth with both hands."Is something wrong?"

"Did you- I can't- did you see how he- he never- in the seven months I've known him- at _you_ nonetheless- I _can't_\- oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!"

Shouto half-expected Ashido to jolt out of her seat and finally make her presence known to his brother. Instead, she grabbed both Shouto's hands, looked him dead in the eyes and declared, "Yaoyorozu Momo, if it's not gonna be me, it's gonna be you!"

"What are you talking-"

Shouto thought the devil's horns headband Ashido wore gained new meaning as she stood up and practically yelled, "I forgot, I live in the opposite direction, Yaoyorozu Momo! Don't leave from here until you've got SOMEBODY to WALK. YOU. HOME, AND KEEP. YOU. SAFE! STAY SAFE! AND TEXT ME HIS NUMBER!" And in all of Shouto's life, he swore he had never met anyone as volatile as his new pink-haired acquaintance, staring breathlessly at her cackling form pulling the door open and running, running into the night in the exact same direction they could have been heading together right now.

Shouto became vaguely aware that he was frozen in his seat. He could feel his heart pulsing, that his head was starting to react to how long he had been holding his breath. Why had she done that again? Something about a sign?

"Hoy. You asked her to do that?"

And Shouto's suddenly breathless for an entirely different reason. He thought his neck snapped looking up at Touya wearing the same bored look, this time with a touch of annoyance. It was so hard not to smile but Shouto tried not to let his joy overpower the stunned daze he had been in just a few seconds ago. It would put poor, sweet Ashido's sacrifice to waste.

"After embarrassing myself earlier? No way."

The longer Shouto looked, the more he believed Touya was testing him though he couldn't tell how exactly. He seemed satisfied with Shouto's answer somewhat. "I figured. That girl's been trying too hard to catch my attention since she started working there. Longest months of my life."

"Should I tell her the good news?"

"Please, no. Too many kids pretending they mistook me for their oldest brother just so I look at them. It's pathetic. They all deserve better. Or not, going after the likes of me_._" And he strode out of the store, backpack stuffed to gills with whatever purchases he just made.

Shouto thought it was safe to stare again now that the glass walls were between them. Briefly, he imagined he must look like a hopeless girl staring after the oblivious love of her life. This Lawson was a corner store so Touya was at the edge of the sidewalk in moments, gazing absently at the green light across him. Shouto kept looking. The traffic light switched to red. Soon it would be green again. Shouto was grateful for whoever it was his brother was waiting for. He wondered absentmindedly if like with Ashido, he should go get that person the most expensive brand of lipbalm he could find as thanks, and...

Oh.

Oh!

"Tits on Christ, don't you work in a four-star restaurant? Are you retarded?"

Shouto had leapt from his seat, snatched up the opened Mentos on the table and ran, ran to his brother's side, forgetting that his chest hurt with each step even when he almost tripped over his own two feet. And now... they were side by side just as they should be.

"It has... been a strange day."

"Damn right it's been. Are you from the boonies or something? You curse like my grandmother."

"I bet I do. I mean, I have been told I curse like mine."

"_Actual _fucking curses. Who still does that?"

Happy tears were beginning to rim Shouto's eyes so he thought to look down and hide from... um. Where did his feet go? Wait. Since when were his shoes so small-

Oh.

_Oh_.

The light went green. Reminded that he wasn't _Shouto_, not entirely, Shouto remembered that each little movement in this girl's body hurt him. Walking hurt. Even if it was beside his long lost brother. He crossed his arms just below his chest and hoped Yaoyorozu Momo wouldn't mind him unintentionally touching her breasts in an attempt to support them. He remembered wondering if he looked like a lovesick girl ogling his brother's back at the convenience store. But he also remembered he was holding a pack of mints-

"Would you like some?"

"None of the fruity shit..."

Shouto twisted the label (Spearmint) so Touya saw it wasn't. He let Shouto shake two candies into his open palm and shot them into his mouth. He looked even more douchebag now, chewing and slouching onwards with his hands in his pockets and that bored look on his face. "Are you fired?"

"No."

"Really? Huh. Guess our rating's down to three..."

"Do you think they should?"

"If they wanna keep their stars, yeah. But Boss is not a businessman, just a weirdo who likes feeding people. If he told you not to worry, don't. Obey your elders."

"Elder... how did you-? I mean, I never said I mistook you for my oldest brother."

Touya shrugged, still not looking at him. "Never said it was you, peach."

Shouto blinked. _Peach_. He was not exactly sure what flirting was like, but he recognized swagger when he saw it, could tell when it's the kind that attracted a lot of young women his age... wasn't fully certain yet when someone had the bad heart to _use _it. Eijoiro had it although he didn't know, and the boy named Kaminari in Yaoyoruzu's class wanted it, tried and failed to wield what he didn't have. Shouto wondered how many girls his brother ever gave the cold shoulder to—or didn't—since hitting his growth spurt away from a sister to guide him through these matters. He imagined Yaoyorozu going to work the next day and wondering why she was suddenly in speaking terms with what was apparently the hottest bachelor in all of Lemon & Olives. Shouto was going to indulge in all the time he had left with his brother, but he was also going to make sure Yaoyorozu Momo got the respect she deserves.

"_Yaoyorozu_. My name is Yaoyorozu and that is what you will call me. I... I would like to apologize for running up to you earlier. And, er, yelling in front of everybody. You are right, I did mistake you for my oldest brother."

"'Everybody'" Touya put up his four longest fingers and twitched them, "is a bitch. I don't fuck with them. Doesn't matter what they think. Tell me, does your brother look like a fuck-up too?"

"I..." Wait a minute. What _did _drug addicts look like? There was no one among his age mates who was bad seed so to speak. Katsuki was the closest candidate but he never got caught, had good grades and did well in sports like the strange, living miracle that he is. Shouto found himself thinking about Yaoyorozu's homeroom teacher but the man appeared to have crystal sharp senses and spoke with lucid clarity despite his painfully questionable appearance. And surely no proper school would even consider hiring a junkie.

"I do not remember," Shouto decided. It was partly true anyway. There were things about his brother he was seeing now that he could not remember ever noticing when they were children. "He ran away a long time ago. I was being stupid. His hair is red like our father's."

Shouto tried to make it look like he wasn't closely gauging how Touya would react to being poked in the eyes with his own lies. Touya opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Swallowed. And he looked at the person he saw as his innocent co-worker with hard eyes and even harder resolve.

"Being hopeful is not stupid."

They stopped at another traffic light. Finding no one around, Touya carried on with Shouto jogging behind him. "Have I... have I heard that somewhere before?"

"Fuck if I know."

"Sure you are not quoting a book?"

"I don't read books, I burn 'em."

"R-really?"

"Don't be such a prep school kid. Er, that's an adjective, not a name."

"That... that means..."

Touya smirked at him. "You really _are _from the boonies, huh? You even got an accent. Except you've lived here your whole life."

"I... spend a lot of time with my grandmother. Er, on school breaks."

"But you cut to chasing paper this summer."

"Oh, yeah. Thought it would be nice to start saving up on my own. Stop asking for allowance from my dad."

"Ooh. Daddy issues, is it? You rich kids and your ginger dads..."

"Are you a rich kid too? With a ginger dad?"

"I guess we were where I'm from. Here, I'm piss broke. He died three years ago."

Shouto stopped smirking. "...I am so-"

"Ah, don't be. World's better off without him. Really."

They lapsed into silence. Touya seemed comfortable with it, walking through yet another red light and never changing pace. Shouto bit his lip, and kept his arms crossed beneath his—_her_—chest.

Three years ago. That was an obvious lie. But was it what Touya wanted to believe?

Suddenly, Shouto was seeing for the first time just how utterly _impossible_ everything was. What were the odds that he would find his consciousness trapped in a person who had direct access to someone he had been missing for ten years? What if this was all a dream and he wakes up, takes the train to Tokyo but learns his brother stopped existing a long time ago? What if he was alive but in a worse state than this—has been for a long time? What if they can't do anything about it? What if... he hated them so much that he won't_ let_ them?

_Better off without Otou-san. _Was Touya better off without _him_?

But something grounded Shouto just as he's about to kneel over the concrete and maybe start throwing up. "Did you... did you take your apron off before beating them up? So they do not know who you are?"

Slowly, the hands Shouto had been watching disappeared into a leather jacket's pockets. Slowly, he followed the lines of that person's arms up to his shoulders, up to Touya's face. "You take me for a fool, kid? Of course I did. Not getting myself fired for an excuse for therapy."

All thoughts about Yaoyorozu and self-doubt are out the window entirely as Shouto grabbed his brother's hand. It hadn't taken on adult shape nor size yet the last time he had held it, but Shouto liked to imagine the heat signature he knew he wasn't superhuman enough to actually notice was the same. He knew these purple patches, seen them on Katsuki's knuckles nearly every day since high school.

"You did this for me."

Not for him. Not for _Shouto_. But from what he could tell, his oldest brother who wasn't exactly keen on making friends still went out of his way to bring justice to a co-worker whose name he didn't even know. He was happy. He was so happy that Todoroki Touya did not grow into the dark caricature their father had always been warning him and Natsuo about. The Dabi-niisan he grew up with would have done that. That Dabi-niisan he loved was still alive. He was here.

Touya scoffed and jerked his hand away. "Don't be pretentious. I was looking for a fight. It's been a while. We can't all afford therapy, more so between jobs."

"I will take that as a 'you are welcome.' Hold on."

He thanked Yaoyorozu for her wallet full of cash and got a full roll of bandages and ointment at a 7-11. ("Aren't you exaggerating a little bit? Wouldn't some band aids do?") Shouto patched a grumbling Touya's fingers up the way he was taught to as a child, and snipped off the last knot with the scissors he had used for her home economics class.

Touya's eyes looked more alive than they have all evening. "Where... where did you learn to do this?"

"My mother. We use it for a kind of mochi back where I am from. You could not cry over scraped knees if you were giggling over looking like food." _She taught all of us. Do you remember, Onii-san?_

Touya smiled like a cat. It was a smile that he learned to do in the city where people's faces were a little tighter. Shouto had never seen it before but that was okay. He liked learning new things, anyway. "The last person to tie my wounds up like this is dead."

Shouto felt something drop into his stomach. "_What?_"

"I'm just kidding." He tossed his palms up, made a shape with his mouth like he was laughing without a sound. "Come on, prep school, before your mother grounds you for talking to strange men."

"I can take care of myself if you turn out to be strange."

"Never said you can't, peach." And speaking of...

As they exited the store and Shouto pulled her phone out of his—her—pocket, he was faced with a realization: he never had the chance to text his own mother. Children had no interest in cellphones when he was younger. And his mother couldn't live long enough for a chance to worry about him like this, her baby boy dressed like a man, out and about in the big world after hours. She never got to experience the semi-chronic fear of being a mother of a teenager, period.

It startled him, how a person whose voice you can't even remember anymore could still make you sad after a decade of silence. When Shouto used Yaoyorozu's phone, he pretended he was texting his mother.

[_I am on my way home, Okaa-san. I love_ _you._]  
sent 9:53_  
_

"So. How many concerts of the League of Villains Band you been too?"

Shouto blinked. "The _what_ now?"

"Pfft. Don't play dumb. The greatest gig in the rock scene right now? Rising stars of the underground? Best musical experience of your life?"

"I... I think Jirou, er, might have mentioned them once or twice." That was a shot in the dark. He knew Jirou Kyouka was different: Neither sweet Ochako or even unique Tsuyu owned a leather jacket, let alone wore it to school, nor were they able to tell the difference between listening to the same flac file using two different headphones. But Shouto thought it would be good to namedrop his supposed best friend, at least in terms of establishing Yaoyorozu's identity.

"No need to tone it down, peach. You called me by my stage name earlier. You're pretty keen, recognizing me through all that face paint."

"O-oh." Shouto's heart raced. _Our brother's nickname for you as your stage name and our sister's for your surname. Where do I fit in all of this? _"I honestly was not thinking that. It is just what we used to call my oldest brother. He really liked that one character from the Harry Potter series when we were kids. Said he relates to him because they both like socks. Of course he was, what, seven? Did not understand what was going on half the time since our copy is in English. My other brother could not say it right when they played pretend and it stuck."

"God, that's embarrassing. I sure wouldn't want some kid to come up to me and compare me to a fucking house elf. 'Dabi' stands for, well, 'dabi,' obviously."

"You do... rock? Tagging yourself the villain, naming yourself after something done to dead people."

"Alt-punk, anti-metal death pop," he corrected Shouto smugly. "Look it up."

"Sounds depressing."

"The world's depressing. And don't actually look it up, cause nothing'll turn up. Yet. We_ invented_ that genre. You could call us trailblazers in a way."

"Hold that thought."

**[**_Momo, are you alright?_**]**

[_Yes, Okaa-san. I was just missing you._]  
[_Be there in five minutes._]_  
sent 10:01_

"I take a turn here..."

"So? Take the damn turn."

**[**_Okay. You're home early._**]**

[_Boss let us off early. Have lots to tell you when I get home._]  
[_I love you!_]  
[(-:]_  
sent 10:03_

"Sure you got nowhere else to be? No date you are missing? No date missing _you_?"

"I said what I said earlier to scare you off. Hell hath no fury than a woman scorned..."

"And rejection is the greatest aphrodisiac." So Touya _wasn't _actually burning books.

Touya smirked. "Please be respectful and don't take my being single as a sign to molest me."

"I will not. I promise."

"I was being sarcas... Never mind. You don't have to look that sincere all the time, prep school. "

"It is _Yaoyorozu_. Um... Touya-nii, er, Fuyumi-senpai, please do not ever think I am f-flirting with you. I just... well..."

"If I did, I'd be long gone. Besides..."

"What?"

"Never mind."

Shouto realized his brother had finished his Mentos ages ago. Touya scratched the back of his head. "You said 'they,' as in 'They saw a series they shouldn't be seeing at so young an age.' You're, what, the youngest then? Of... four?"

"Yup. Onee-san, Dabi-niisan, Nii-san and me. I do not remember calling Onii-san anything else."

"Poor fucker."

"I do not know about that. He did not seem to mind when we were kids."

"No one minds their family when they're kids. But then they stop."

"Not minding?"

"Being kids at some point."

Shouto said nothing. Then, weakly, "That is my house."

"Rich kids and their fucking ginger..." Touya muttered with wide eyes, realizing for the first time were in a posh subdivision a healthy distance away from noise and light pollution. Shouto hugged himself—Yaoyorozu, he corrected with a blush—to keep from embracing his own brother.

"...fathers. I'll stay here so your parents don't ask questions."

"You do not look so bad."

"Yeah, and any mother would freak if they saw what I've become. Even if they weren't mine."

Shouto allowed himself a few seconds to just _look_ at Touya. "Thank you, Fuyumi-senpai. I really appreciate it." When Touya tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, Shouto bowed and headed for the gates. He wouldn't cry. He wouldn't until he was safely inside Yaoyorozu's room, away from his supposed mother... away from family. Even if it wasn't his.

"Hey. Prep school. Yaoyorozu."

Shouto turned with a start.

"I have a baby brother," Touya intoned, almost sounding confused and hunted. "A really titchy thing of a brother. He would be about your age now. He liked Dobby too when he was five. Because I did. Liked socks, I mean. Bit of a copycat, that one. But I thought he really liked... socks. Even if no one told him to. At least when he was little. I. Have no idea why I am telling you this."

Shouto unfroze with dripping eyes, bit his—Yaoyorozu's—lip. Touya stood in the shadows, unreadable. Shouto would do anything to see his eyes now but for Yaoyorozu's sake he would go to sleep and wake up in his own body, miles away from the one he missed so much. He would get his chance. He would save up for a train to Tokyo, run into the Lemon & Olives kitchens at 4:30 pm sharp on a Monday and beg his brother to come home. But a goodbye at this point would be self-harm.

So he said something else, smiling as sweetly as he could: "I am sure your brother still loves you." And he unlocked the gate to Yaoyoruzu's home and shut it.

...

In Itomori, Momo was dreaming.

In the dream, she was walking over to Moonlight Kingdom. She was a priestess, that much she knew, and she looked like it from her view of her own self lurking somewhere deep in the forest along the path her dream self was walking. Momentarily, they become one: Momo sees the darkening road ahead and remembers a discrepancy in class with Nemuri-sensei, about using love as an example of madness.

_None of that could get into any of my kingdoms,_ thought Momo. _So why does it..._

A shooting star was falling on her face, like the chalkboard illustration. As it grew nearer, she realized it was some sort of rice cake, and she separates from her body at the moment of impact.

Momo watched herself wake up. She has made it to a shrine in Moonlight Kingdom. She blushes to realize there is a toilet where a throne (_But what kind of shrine has a throne?_) should be, but the shame disappears like she never learned it.

There was no altar, no offering, only a naked man.

She and her dream self shared the same heartbeat. And all two of her consciousness smiles.

The man said to her in a voice she was yet to hear from outside of her head, "Oh, Momo. _Kataware-doki _does not enter the gates alone. You bring it in with you."

* * *

**A/N:**

Dabi = Todoroki Touya because at this point we're just waiting for the official announcement. i wrote the drafts before we were told he's the oldest todork bb and im too lazy to change his and Shouto's dialog + dynamics and/or too attached to my Eldest!Fuyumi headcanon. he's 21 here.

Drop by the real life Lemon & Olives Greek taverna in Baguio city!


	3. September 6

**.**

**September 6**

**.**

Shouto woke up before his alarm rang. He checked his phone immediately and made a dash for his inbox... there.

Last night, he had spent nearly two hours writing down everything, everything he could remember in the longest email he had ever written in his life. He read it twice. He shook his head, slapped his face, pinched his arm and stared at the rising sun until his eyes hurt. But his tiny archive was still there. He had sent it to his account himself, using the one he found in the phone of a stranger he switched bodies with yesterday. But what if... what if it was a glitch, or his eyes were just seeing what they wanted to, coping with the nothingness that was actually screaming at his face? What if he was still dreaming? The nausea from last night that came up when he was starting to doubt his sanity resurfaced.

He pressed his palms over closed eyes, with just a little more pressure on the left. Breathe in. Out. If yesterday had been a dream and a false one at that, Touya would still be out there, waiting to be found. It was just a matter if he was alive or... not, but in any case, Shouto would still have the rest of his family and nothing was going to ever change that. He'll make sure of it. And as long as they stayed in Itomori, their mother's spirit will be with them for always. Rei will protect them. She would.

Alright. It's going to be alright, Shouto. He opened his eyes and-

On the palm that lingered over his scar were two words in marker. He didn't remember putting them there. He didn't write kanji that neatly even after hours of calligraphy lessons with his grandmother. And if there was a name he would have written there last night in a sentimental spell, it wouldn't have been Yaoyorozu Momo's but his missing brother's. Which meant _she _had been the one to put it there.

He swallowed. It hadn't been a dream after all...

Focus. Focus. Thank gods, there was a chance for his family to be whole again. But this meant now that he was going to have to come up with a plan.

He texted his coach that he wouldn't be able to make it to practice today... got the shock of his life when he agreed. ("Shake it off, shake it off. But you better be in top form Monday, alright?") He was disoriented to find Natsuo as he came down for breakfast but the date on his phone told him that yes, Natsuo was due for his break today. Shouto did his best not to steer the conversation towards their other brother. Natsuo was the most vocal about missing Touya and Shouto was afraid to give him false hope, not until it was certain he was coming home for sure. There was a pounding in his chest so quick and insistent it would have been a rattle if it didn't come so strong.

Fuyumi noticed his efforts. "Shouto, you're a different kind of out of sorts today," she gently observed, placing a hand on his forehead. "From having so much energy yesterday, you're even more quiet than usual. How do you feel?"

"He's tired out from baking the brownies," Natsuo laughed. _Brownies? _Shouto wanted to ask but he simply shrugged and attempted a smile. He wondered for the first time and not without the threat of a brand new pit in his stomach if he be concerned about the things he apparently did with this body yesterday—Yaoyorozu wasn't an idiot as far as he could tell but ignorance was dangerous. "How's your hand, sweet cheeks?"

Oh. Shouto had been so concerned about the rest of the day that thus far he had been able to ignore a patch on the back of his right hand that stung when it touched things. "A lot better I think."

"D'you want me to tie it up the way we do? That'll speed things up. Oh, what about a kiss? What was that you said last night? 'No joke, onii-san, saliva actually _does _have healing properties and-'"

"_Nii-san..._" Shouto burned as his family laughed. His heart beat even faster.

"If it's nerves from missing practice yesterday," Fuyumi began innocently, "what about coming with me to Otou-san today to put things into perspective?"

"Ugh, Nee-san..."

"It's a joke, Natsuo. If Shouto's stressed out as it is now-"

"Your sister is right," interrupted their grandmother. "Whatever happened to your promise to visit once a week? Natsuo, surely you have adjusted to college by now to fit this into your schedule. And you, Shouto. Sports Fest or none, you have more than enough time to-"

"I am sorry, Obaa-san." Shouto bussed his dishes, practically shuddering with his heart rate. "I have got important things to do today. Please excuse me."

"Your father _is _important, boy!" But Shouto was already running upstairs.

...

Momo was very nearly late for school but managed a photo finish before her homeroom teacher slunk through the door. Her head and body ached with the telltale signs of not getting enough sleep even though she had passed out from bliss in Itomori before midnight the night prior. It took a while for her to understand where the burn on her hand went that morning: she hadn't been baking with her family with _this _body. And her family... hadn't actually been _her _family. She should just dismiss it as a dream and get it over and done with but even so... even so. She wondered if everything had been real.

"Yaoyorozu?"

Shit. How long had Aizawa-sensei been addressing her? "Y-yes, Sensei?"

"Your excuse letter for missing half of yesterday's classes."

Momo felt the earth gave way beneath her without understanding why he was asking for one. "I... I... I'm so sorry, Sensei. I left it at home this morning. I will retrieve it at lunch time," she ended with a bow.

Aizawa said nothing, just raised an eyebrow by a fraction of an inch. Then he addressed the class with the usual morning spiel and announcements.

Momo didn't understand. If it had been a dream, she should remember being absent yesterday, shouldn't she?

_But I remember everything_, she thought. _The smell of the rice fields in the mud and the sweat in a gym full of boys, the taste of fresh salad and ice-cold orange juice out of a can, the weight of carrying around a male body and the strangeness of briefs for underwear... _yes. She remembered everything about yesterday, just not the time she spent awake.

Lessons began and Momo struggled to keep up, consulting her notes for a foothold. When she found none that gave hint of what the most recent discussion was, she started entertaining the possibility that she _had _been absent yesterday—she never failed to take notes, and her notebooks bore no sign of any recent torn pages. The only thing unfamiliar about the notebook was a page with a sentence made in giant handwriting she's never seen before: _Who are you? _And on the next page as if they were written a day apart: _You again?_

But no, how could a whole day pass by without having any memory of it? Two for that matter, if she could trust these cryptic messages. Thankfully, she made it to first break without any teachers demanding they took a quiz or suchlike.

"Good morning, Yao Momo. How're you feeling?" Jirou greeted her.

"Um, fine, just fine. What seems to be the problem?"

"Nothing, nothing at all." Her friend looked round before drawing closer to her. "I brought you some chocolates but I'll hand them over later. Everyone'll be wanting a piece."

"Oh! Thank you so much! But... what for, Jirou-san?"

Jirou stared at her some then shook her head with a smile. "Give yourself _credit_, Yaoyorozu. I haven't known you for long, but I know it took a lot of bravery to pull off what you did yesterday. Let's keep it up together, yeah?" She leaned even closer, positively grinning this time. "And a little bird whispered in my ear that _someone _walked our heroine home last night _after _giving the bad guys who tried hurting her a beating. Is there something you should be telling me?"

Momo fought the urge to say something along the lines of _What?_ "Not... not until we actually have dinner first, don't you think?"

Jirou laughed delightedly and wandered over to Hagakure-san's table, leaving her to blush over her own cheek. Why did she say that? And what was Jirou even talking about?

Momo fished for her phone, wondering if she could find any evidence of anything at all from yesterday on her social media. Nope. No posts, nothing on her inbox, nothing. Except... A text conversation with her mother a few hours before her shift ended, a phone conversation with Ashido-san, and her usual made-it-back-home-safe text to Jirou. What had she and Ashido been talking about? All things considered, she was probably the little bird their co-worker spoke of.

Wait. Why would she tell her mother she was coming home long before she actually could? _Have lots to tell you when I get home, _Momo had said. What exactly did they talk about last night? _This is ridiculous._ Why couldn't she remember anything? For one last time before the bell rang, she rechecked her phone for anything more concrete than what she had dug up. What about the outboxes? There was one in her email account. She clicked it hoping for something, not sure what to expect. Except...

"Oh my god."

Except she received _everything._

...

By the time their grandmother called him down for lunch, Shouto had made full use of the empty corkboard collecting dust on his desk. He was the kind to keep all his affairs, as few as they were, on his planner, and the kind to check it everyday to make sure he forgot nothing. Not only had he pushed pins all across the board to hold his notes in today, he had also taken the whiteboard from the attic and propped it above his workdesk across the wall. Before that, he had taken his bicycle to the school library to print out a large map of the Lemon & Olive's district on multiple sheets of papers, and a smaller map of the whole of Tokyo. These he pasted across the whiteboard, and he filled up the corkboard with memos on his brother: _dyed hair_—_grudge against Otou-san? "dead"?!_—_waiter, tables 15 to 20? _—_where does he live?_—_remembers Okaa-san; happy with her memory_—_LEAGUE OF VILLAINS BAND _—_Fuyumi __Touya, "Dabi"_—_misses me_.—among others.

He ate hurriedly and was grateful it was Natsuo's turn to do the dishes today; he only had a few hours left before dinner rolled around again. He was about to review the district for possible locations of Touya's dwelling (he had called himself piss-broke, so Shouto thought he should start with the less popular neighborhoods) when his phone dinged. He was about to dismiss it as irrelevant had it not been close enough so that he could see the sender of the message at the corner of his eye. Where had he seen it before? Promising not to dwell on the mystery, he opened up the message and instantly had an answer.

**All Things Cre8i [infinitepeaches]****  
**_Hello. My name is Yaoyorozu Momo. I assume that you are Todoroki Shouto?_**  
**_I see that you have accessed my email yesterday (Monday, September 5, 2016) and sent a message to your account. It seems to detail activity you have done during said date, including working at the Lemon & Olives and meeting my co-worker. Are you a new hire? I do not recall seeing you at our M-Th 4:30-10:30 shift yet, or using my phone. I'd like to get to know you better. (:_**  
**_seen 12:22_

Shouto felt stupid and mildly ashamed of himself. He didn't know why it had never occurred to him that Yaoyoruzu would certainly have opinions on yesterday's events and his performance playing out her life. Of course she would. He took a moment to consider. She was being cautious, saying nothing about possession or switching bodies. He decided to end his confusion then and there.

**t. shouto [todoroki_shouto] ****(You)  
**_Hello, Yaoyorozu. Yes, I am Todoroki Shouto. I don't want to sound like a liar, but something strange happened to me yesterday. I dreamt I was in your body somehow... _No, that sounded wrong._ I dreamt that I had assumed your identity and went about my day as you, in your home, school and workplace. That is how I had been able to access your email (sorry about that) and send the details of my day to my account. I don't live anywhere near Tokyo nor work at the Lemon & Olives at any shift._

**You  
**_I wonder if you had a similar dream?_  
_sent 12:46_

When she didn't respond immediately, Shouto returned to his work. When he had narrowed the possible apartment complexes in the first candidate district to four by the power of price checks, reviews, and lacing his maps up with yarn, she was back.

**All Things Cre8i  
**_slr I was busy.  
I had the same dream myself! at least I thought it was your body I was inhabiting. I am from Tokyo as you may know but I dreamed I was in Gifu. I have never been there in real life_

**You  
**_I wonder if we might have switched bodies. I do live in Gifu, in a town called Itomori. Can you recall some specific details about me? If you don't mind._

**All Things Cre8i  
**_you do not have your picture in your profile but I know you have sectoral heterochromia and a birthmark over your left eye  
you also play basketball for your high school team and your jersey number is 15  
I suppose that's not very specific but your sister Fuyumi-san works as a pre-school teacher and your brother Natsuo-san is studying medical welfare in Tokyo u. your grandmother is head priestess of your community shrine_

**You  
**_That does sound like me. And to make sure it was you from yesterday, you work closely with Jirou and Ashido during your shift. You keep mascara, a tube of lipstick, lipbalm, a hair tie and pepper spray in the front pocket of your bag. Your phone ringtone is some gentle electronic remix of Clair de Lune, but your alarm tone is the recorded sounds of whale song._

**All Things Cre8i  
**_that is all correct Todoroki-san! this is an eerie discovery. I confess I am having trouble convincing myself it wasn't all a dream. if only there was some way to make sure it wasn't...__just so we're sure_

**You  
**_Ashido put a red flower pin in your hair yesterday. She told me to keep it after I... _No. How was he supposed to explain the brother situation? _She told me to keep it. I think I remember placing it on your bedroom dresser. I'm pretty sure I'm awake right now and if I am, so are you. If you see the pin, yesterday must have been real._

**All Things Cre8i **  
_i'm outside and cannot check it until after work later. but I will let you know asap!_

**All Things Cre8i **  
_Todoroki-san, I do not mean to pry, but may I know why you were not able to go to my morning classes yesterday?_  
_seen 4:12pm_

Oh. Did she get into trouble for that? Her tone has gone serious all of a sudden.

**You  
**_I'm sorry, Yaoyorozu. I thought I had been dreaming so I explored a bit of the town. By lunchtime, I started thinking it must all be real and tried to live out the rest of the day as I thought you would. _Shouto paused before hitting send. Then he quickly added

**You  
**_I apologize for any inconvenience I might have caused you today.  
sent 4:13_

It was several minutes before Yaoyorozu answered.

**All Things Cre8i  
**_It's okay, Todoroki-san. __I simply said I was not feeling well in my excuse letter._**  
**_seen 4:18_

Shouto wondered how bad missing her morning classes meant to her. Just as he's composing an answer, she followed up with

**All Things Cre8i  
**_Todoroki-san, I don't mean to pry, but it seems yesterday's events were most fortuitous to you._**  
**_I had read the email you sent to yourself to figure out what happened yesterday when we weren't sure we had been dreaming yet (lol). I hope you understand._**  
**_I will be working with Fuyumi-senpai again later. would you like me to pass on a message?_

**All Things Cre8i  
**_(:_**  
**_seen 4:20_

Gods among us, he didn't even think of that. Shouto was so taken by the possibilities a correspondence with Yaoyorozu might reap that he leapt out of his chair. He typed furiously and was halfway through his second paragraph when he stopped. No, Touya might take that as a cue to hide elsewhere. Whether he wanted them to find him or not, he was a sitting duck right now and should remain so until Shouto was absolutely certain he had what it took to get Touya to come home—once Shouto had acquired the ultimate bribe, be it material object, a set of terms and conditions, whatever.

**You  
**_Thank you Yaoyorozu, but not now. __Can you do me a different sort of favor, though, please? I'll pay you back in kind, I promise. _Please, please let Yaoyorozu be a kind person...

**All Things Cre8i  
**_what is it?_

**You**_  
That man is my brother. You may have gotten from the email that my family hasn't been in contact with him for some time because... _Shouto paused then replaced the "because" with a period. _I want to reconnect with him as myself in my own terms. Can you ask for some details about him for me?_

**You**_  
Please?_

He didn't expect her to answer so soon:

**All Things Cre8i  
**_I will do what I can Todoroki-san. I understand this is important for you_  
_if you don't mind, I will take my time with this assignment. I don't want to sound pushy or invasive. we don't have much of a relationship, see_

**You  
**_Of course, I understand completely. Thank you so much Yaoyorozu._

**You**_  
(-:_

**You**_  
Here are the details I need in order of importance:  
-Address  
-Current living conditions  
-History in Tokyo (if possible)_

**All Things Cre8i  
**_do I have to see his house? for current living conditions?_

**You  
**_No. Just see if he's not starving or anything like that. _Shouto thought that might be a little extreme so he followed up with a _lol_ for good measure. It was supposed to make online conversations lighter, to hear Izuku tell it.

**All Things Cre8i  
**_I have to go into work now Todoroki-san, I'll talk to you again around 10:30. I'll keep your questions in mind (:_

**You  
**_Again, you have my deepest gratitude. I mean it. Let me know how I can help you from my end.  
sent 4:31_

That was that for now. Shouto thought it was strange Yaoyorozu had to work with a mansion as big as hers, but that was none of his business, really.

He reviewed his list of apartment complexes and the two maps he had decorated. He will get more specific details on these later, maybe even have to redo the whole thing. For now, though, he could continue his research rather than twiddle his thumbs anxiously for the next six hours. He could only manage subjective information but that should be equally important as anything Yaoyorozu was going to report later. Shouto had been too young when Touya left to remember any concrete facts about him other than he never once failed to show his youngest sibling affection and love.

Shouto checked if his phone had enough battery and readied a pen and notebook. It was time to speak with Natsuo.

...

Ashido-san looked like she was itching in places not to be named in public when Momo and Jirou arrived at the kitchen. "No fair," she hissed without missing a beat, "lying to me last night saying you didn't have his number just so you could keep it for yourself! That's 18 hours that I could have had it already!"

"I couldn't ask for it," said Momo honestly. She drew closer so Ashido may be encouraged to tone her voice down, just a little. "If I did, he would've bolted. I knew that much from talking with him."

"You told me that already but oh my GOD!" Ashido squealed. "What ELSE did you learn? And he _wouldn't_ have! That's why I gave you my pin, to make sure he doesn't come up with any excuses to bolt, no matter what you ask him!"

"Ashido," Jirou growled low, "quit screaming, will you? You're hurting my ears."

By this time a little circle of their female shift mates (some males too, now that Momo had an embarrassed look around) had closed in on the three. Word had traveled fast that Fuyumi Touya was not actually a numbnut as Jirou called him in the third person to tease Ashido—and that he apparently bore no such thing.

"Did you go home with him? How was he, like, how big?"

"Is it true he has tattoos on his lower back?"

"I mean, he's hot but he's so skinny that unless his knees are any good-"

"Oh my gosh! No, no, no!" Momo protested.

"How long did he last?"

"I told you, it's time we changed shifts to match his-"

"Do you think he'd notice me if I stuffed my bra too?"

"Alright, break it up, people," Jirou announced, literally shielding Momo from further questions. "Yaoyorozu-san needs to focus on work today like the professional she is. Move along, move along."

"Yao Momo, do me a favor as your friend and answer _me_," Ashido demanded, "did you _at least _get him to ask you out?"

"Here he comes!" someone warned.

The man of the hour and the restaurant owner emerged from the office, whispering between themselves. Momo immediately made a show of putting her hair up in a bun just to avoid _him_ seeing how red she was; she did not look up until Jirou nudged her to follow their boss back inside.

"Good afternoon, Yaoyorozu-kun. How are you feeling?"

"Quite alright, Sir." _Asides from the fact that you've called me here today, of course._

"That is good to hear. I take it you've told your parents about last night's incident?"

Incident? What incident? They couldn't... they couldn't be considering Fuyumi-senpai walking her home an _incident_, would they? "Er. Um."

"It's alright. I understand if you haven't."

Momo detached from her present tension just long enough to notice she was sweating hard.

"I was also informed that Fuyumi-kun walked you home last night. It is usually Ashido-kun who does this, yes?"

Phew. "Y-yes, Sir. My house is on the way to the station and Ashido-san and I separate just a few blocks away my place. But, er, last night, she, er had errands to do. Oh, but she didn't leave me until she was sure I would make it home safe. Fuyumi-senpai happened to pass the same way and he was kind enough to take me the rest of the way home." Goodness. What a relief that she had pried on Todoroki-san's email, and what a relief that he had detailed every little thing involving his brother there.

Boss nodded and looked somewhat grim. "Yaoyorozu-kun, I want to be honest with you. We have reason to believe it might safer for Fuyumi-kun to accompany you—and, I suppose, Ashido-kun as well—home in the foreseeable future. The man who harassed you last night returned earlier this morning and, frankly, threatened to close down this establishment for your act of self-defense. Of course, we took the appropriate action seeing that what you did what was right." He smiled at Momo with a look of utter respect. "I assure you, no harm will come to you while you are in this building. But just in case he takes things further, I have asked Fuyumi-kun to walk you home again tonight. His presence should discourage any harmful intent towards you. Of course, this arrangement will come to cease once we are certain the coast is clear and will stay so. But if it doesn't, we will take full responsibility for your security to and from work."

Momo blinked, brain whizzing a hundred miles a second. Todoroki-san... Todoroki-san mentioned something about finding Fuyumi in an alleyway beating someone up because they tried to hurt her. Yes, those were the exact words, 'tried to hurt Yaoyorozu', but he never detailed how exactly.

"And Yaoyorozu-kun," her superior continued, "I will tell you now that I did not inform your parents about last night as I didn't think there would be an attempt from _their _side to make things worse," he rolled his eyes in heartfelt exasperation, "and I had wanted to respect your privacy. But I'm afraid as you are a minor, I cannot act based on your consent alone for the matter we have at hand. I will send a message to your parents regarding the situation so they can take extra precautions to help you as they see fit. Alright?"

"I understand, sir." She would have to clue what had happened from her workmates. If it was enough that they assigned her a bodyguard whether she liked it or not, Momo could only wish Todoroki-san didn't attempt to commit murder.

After her turn at the office, Jirou and Ashido were also called in—presumably to let them know they need to keep an eye on her—and from then on, Momo noticed them eyeing her immediate surroundings not more than once. In any case, she threw herself into her work, making sure everything was perfect before the dinner rush begins and mentally getting on top of things when it does. Momo was slightly more aware of her surroundings than usual but when break rolled around, she wasn't even half as scared as she thought she would be.

"Nothing to report," said Jirou faithfully.

"Nothing on my end, too," Ashido nodded. "_Except S_enpai's been sneaking peeks at you all night long."

In moments, Momo found herself in the office again: her mother had called their landline and wanted to let Momo know they were sending a car round the back the moment her shift ends, and if Ashido liked, they could take her to the station as well. _Damn_—if this continued, Todoroki-san wouldn't get his answers. Momo had to think her way out of this one somehow.

"Okaa-san, I was wondering. If we send someone over to pick me up, won't that encourage them to a-act even if they weren't already planning to? If they _are _observing me, won't they get the idea I'm paranoid? 'Paranoia suggests guilt and expressions of guilt, even if false, work best in encouraging an aggressor in the wrong.' Isn't that what you taught me, Okaa-san?"

Momo waited for a reply, confident with her delivery and hoping for the best. The silence was long and when it breaks, there was no praise nor mention of Momo's rational argument because her mother would never acknowledge that Momo was correct where she was wrong. "What do you feel comfortable with?"

"I'll walk home with Ashido-san and my co-worker tonight. Sir has been a family friend for years, so he won't assign someone untrustworthy to guard me. We're not friends, but I know Fuyumi-senpai is a good person. We'll keep an eye out for several nights and if there's a serious threat, I'll start taking the car, okay?"

Again with silence. Then "I'll call you when your shift ends and speak with him before you leave that building."

"Yes, Okaa-san. I'll go back to dinner now. I love you."

"Pass the phone to Yasuhiro."

Momo did what she was told and only left after her boss mouthed "_I'll let you know if it's important._" Fuyumi-senpai was passing by as she opened the door and Momo was relieved when he didn't even look her way. After debriefing the girls back at their table, she checked her phone for any updates from his brother:

**t. shouto [todoroki_shouto]  
**_Again, you have my deepest gratitude. I mean it. Please let me know how I can help you from my end._

Below that was a moving sticker of a sheep-like llama bowing in earnest (_seen 8:25_). Momo had to smile as she sent him a sentient cookie crying _OK!_ into a megaphone. Todoroki-san was a very formal person and when he tried not to be it turned out slightly off and really cute.

"Who's Todoroki Shouto?" Ashido asked over her shoulder.

"Oh! No one. We're working on a project together."

"For school?"

Momo took a sip of water and said "Mm."

"You better not tell me you're picking him over Senpai. I have no idea what he looks like, but I'm gonna bet my horns in hell he's not nearly as hot, and if you think so, Yao Momo, you're dumber than I thought."

Momo choked on her water and coughed into a handkerchief.

She had a little time to think on the matter as they were closing down the restaurant. Shouto called himself Todoroki but Touya went by the name Fuyumi. She knew her Senpai apparently lied to Todoroki-san about his father being dead—maybe Fuyumi was their mother's maiden name or something? But their sister's name was also Fuyumi, which means... oh well. Must be a traditional thing city folks like her no longer knew about or practiced. In any case, she was now going to have to tell him...

"Fuyumi-senpai? Um, good evening. Sir told me that... well, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but thank you so much for your effort. I'd just like to let you know that... this is embarrassing, but my mother would like to-" and as if life was a movie, her phone started ringing. He shook his head, muttering something that vaguely sounded like "rich kids," but reached a hand out for it anyway.

"I have Fuyumi-senpai here, Okaa-san. Hold on..."

Momo turned away with the full intention of eavesdropping. What did she know about Fuyumi-senpai? His schedule was not fixed and was negotiated directly with their boss. He did not take a managerial position despite seniority and picked maintenance duty over waiting when given the chance. He never spoke unless spoken to, and when anyone tried, he was frank to the point of being crass so she was scared her mother won't approve of him and demand someone else accompanied her home. But he started to assume formal inflections that were almost archaic in their politeness that Momo was too surprised to realize she was impressed.

"Good evening, Yaoyorozu-san. My name is Fuyumi Touya. I've been an employee in this establishment for nine years. Yes, Momo's changing shifts have been coinciding with mine since summer this year. I have been assigned by... Yes. Yes. I have no intention of harming your daughter, I've seen what she can do with those who try. Yes, Ma'am, it was impressive, if I may say so myself. Of course. I understand your concern, Ma'am, perfectly reasonable. If you don't mind me saying, I was raised by my grandmother, mother and one older sister all in the same house. I also have a live-in partner as of present. Of course. I understand. That is no problem at all, Yaoyorozu-san. Very well then, I will bring her home within 20 minutes, as per usual. I wish you a good evening as well, Yaoyorozu-san, and I look forward to meeting you in person. Oy, prep school, we're done here."

Momo startled at being addressed as such—where on earth did he get that?—and closed the deal with her mother, who made her promise she would update them of her location every five minutes.

"Is it _true _you have a live-in partner, Fuyumi-senpai?" was Ashido's first question out the door. Momo fought the urge to groan.

"Sadly, yes. Sorry."

"Oh ho, I _see_. Male or female?"

"Both." Silence prevailed (a mildly horrified one on Ashido's part) for an entire block.

"S-senpai is pulling our leg!"

"Nope. Really both. There's two of 'em, see."

"Ashido-san," Momo desperately attempted to stop an outcry from her friend, "how, how is school lately? Exams are coming up aren't they? We're having ours next week and-"

"Oh!" Ashido exclaimed, "Fuyumi-senpai, are _you_ still in school? I mean, you look like you could be a college senior. You could be a high school senior for all I know, you're so youthful-looking and handsome."

"Nope. Neither of those. Grade-level or appearance-wise"

"Really?" Momo couldn't help exclaim. She wasn't an active participator of the Fuyumi Touya Fan Club at work, but she assumed like most everyone else that he was a working student.

"Decided I had enough after middle school," he said, looking at her. "Anyways. Ginger dad give you any trouble last night?"

What... wait. Todoroki-san had mentioned something about that in his email. "N-no. You hid pretty well. They don't suspect a thing."

"What are you two talking about?"

Momo felt bad and looked back at Fuyumi, shyly asking him _please, please, please _without a word. Low chance of success but maybe, just maybe...

He huffed softly but had the tact to not roll his eyes. "I hid from her parents last night. Across the street."

"Ooh!" Ashido cried.

"Yeah, don't want anyone asking questions."

"Well, there shouldn't be anything to fear if you two got nothing to hide, do you?" Ashido suggested, winking.

Their conversation continued like this with Momo eventually relaxing, arm in arm with her friend and texting her mother at the appropriate time. Ashido could keep up with Fuyumi's snark with quick dry wit, and she never seemed offended by his general dismissiveness. On the other hand, Senpai kept on entertaining her, and it got to a point that it didn't seem like he was just being nice anymore.

"Where are you from anyway, Senpai?" Ashido eventually thought to ask. "No offense, but I'm sizing up the odds my friend's got here against your, ehem, live-in partners. The further from here, the higher the chance, seeing you risk missing the train walking her home and all that."

Fuyumi looked like he wanted to gag but the expression was gone from his face in an instant. He smirked at Momo. "Promise not to stalk me if I tell?"

"Promise!" Ashido declared, Momo giggling at her enthusiasm.

He shook his head. "Asakusa. I know, no one wants to be found dead in _Asakusa_, but you can't blame me. Rent should practically come free if you drink these days."

"Haha, yeah! I mean, I don't know, I don't drink. Is alcohol _really _so expensive? Hey, Yao Momo, how much are luxury Italian wine these days, hmm?"

Fuyumi smirked very briefly, and soon Ashido was laughing along with Momo as well. _I__f Ashido-san keeps this up, Todoroki-san will have all is answers in no time..._

"But Senpai, word on the street is you have a proper motorbike parked around here somewhere. Oh, I know you're a gentleman and won't offer such service with two ladies present, _but_," Ashido waggled her eyebrows at Momo, "I humbly withdraw my claims to courtship, so starting tomorrow, you'll have Yaoyorozu-chan on your motorbike all to yourself with no third wheels anywhere."

Momo wanted to lay a hand over Ashido's mouth then and there but Fuyumi only smirked at something they couldn't see. "Do I look like I can afford gas, let alone a whole fucking bike?"

"Hold on. You _commute_? But... but..."

"But Asakusa's a good half hour away," Momo finished for her friend in case Ashido was planning to gush something rude about him failing to live up to her bad boy ideals. "I wonder if... Senpai has a special connection with the boss. Or just a passion for serving Greek cuisine."

"Couldn't care less about what we sell, really. He gave me the job shortly after I... moved out. I don't want to go through the fuss of having to deal with new people just to cut on travel time."

"Senpai is picky with his friends," Ashido nodded wisely. "How practical."

"Yeah... not really, no."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't choose them. They just happened to choose me before I saw enough to say no. Hoy, draw closer to me. Now."

Ashido didn't need telling twice. She dragged Momo with her until she was almost rubbing shoulders with Fuyumi with each step of the way but her grin vanished on realizing why he ordered them to do so.

"Do not look behind you but he has been around for ten minutes now. Keep talking, both of you. And do not walk any faster. Yaoyorozu, tell your mother that we are dropping off Ashido first. They are keeping distance, we could still mislead them."

"I, I don't think I've heard Senpai ever say my name before," Ashido managed without letting her voice tremble so much. "Is that an accent I hear? S-so cute."

"Are they... are they actually, um..."

"Better safe than sorry." Fuyumi rolled his head as if to casually stretch his neck, but Momo knew he was looking around as inconspicuously and as far as his eyes would let him. He seemed to be talking funny. "Ashido, have someone pick you up from the station just in case. When we turn the corner, switch places so Yaoyorozu is in the middle. Keep away from the alley."

The girls did so, and quickly. Eyes roving as he maintained a languid pace, he muttered to himself so softly Momo doubted Ashido right next to her would hear. "In the name of... I _told_ Boss if it was me they were after, it would be safer to have assigned someone else. If they have the slightest shred of decency, they will wait until I'm alone... I can take them... I can take them... In any case, these two just need to get out of the way. Her house is in this neighborhood but _she _is probably at the apartment right now. Who is closest, just in case, for backup...? Tsk. Alone, can I... how many will there be..."

Guilt assaulted Momo like the night breeze and she immediately bows her head and rants "Oh, Fuyumi-senpai, I am so sorry for the inconvenience, truly I am. I'm sorry I've caused you so much trouble now, even possibly e-endanger you. I- I shouldn't have... last night, I- I w-wasn't myself when I did what I did. I shouldn't have-"

"Don't start telling me you regret it," he purred, "because if you do, you're damn right you should be sorry."

Momo flinched. Her co-worker regarded her like he was lazily trying to set her on fire; a little more energy and it would have been a full-on _glare_. Ashido seemed to pull her away slightly, putting just a little more distance between them and him.

He blinked and the spell was over, and nothing suggested it had been unintentional. His voice and expression reassumed their usual calm when he said "I wouldn't be here if I thought I was wasting my time, so chill _out_, prep school. And your self-esteem issues are none of my concern, but what happened to being so assured you did no wrong last night? _That_ Yaoyorozu deserves my time and protection. Don't be inconsistent. I hate inconsistent people."

He resumed reviewing their surroundings at last and put his hands in his pockets. Momo thought it was instantly easier to breathe but did not look away from her shoes. "To be perfectly fair, I don't think you need my help," he said presently. "You could take the likes of me on and win. I mean that." Another pause. "Look, if you feel so bad about it, I'm here cause the boss said so, otherwise, he's taking a load off my wages for damage fees and then some to pay the lawyers with. Happy?"

This time, the two girls looked up at their senior but he resolutely kept his eyes forward. "Earlier today..." Ashido mumbled, eyes wide.

"You both saw last night, didn't you? They think management sent me over to beat them up. I don't know how they figured out, I did take off my apron. Boss could just go ahead and admit it was all on me and the bastards will leave you alone, but he... Tsk. Good people. It is not... fair..."

Suddenly, he took his phone out of his pocket, and started texting someone, or pretended to fiddle with it anyway. He didn't want to talk. Neither did Momo, to be fair. She wanted to wallow in this misery she created for everyone without remembering what she had even done because that was the easiest thing to do right now.

"I'm sorry," Momo whispered.

"What was that?"

"I was saying, can I interest you in some cake? It's not much, but Okaa-san's a good cook, and we still have a few slices left from Sunday. She bakes every week, you see. And y-you could take some home for your room mates. Um. Least I could do?"

A look and she knew he understood: this was an exercise in responsibility, this was an attempt to make up for whatever trouble it was somebody else (his own brother, if only he knew) had caused. Fuyumi shrugged. "Not a fan of sweets but Shigaraki won't mind."

"Then I'll text Okaa-san to fix you a box. Wouldn't want you missing the train."

Momo bit her lip. It hurt a little but he was right, she shouldn't be apologetic over something she didn't do... even if _she_ apparently did it in everybody else's eyes and inconvenienced her entire workplace... right?

He spared her a glance again like he was trying to convince himself of something. "You're still a kid aren't you," he sighed. "Next time, don't reject the help you're given, prep school. No one would bother if you weren't worth it."

"Where did 'prep school' come from?" Ashido shyly began as the station came into view. "We're in high school, sure, but prep school isn't really derogatory if you're referring to UA, is it?"

"UA? Seriously? Heh, no wonder. I say prep school cause she doesn't know the first thing about sarcasm or figure of speech." He gave some examples that made Momo raise an eyebrow and had Ashido guffawing, to which Momo could only very weakly reply "I fully understand what Senpai means, or meant, h-hearing it again, I-! I was- I was just in over my head last night, that's all!"

By the time they had seen Ashido off on a compartment with nothing remotely fishy about it, Momo's fear of any potential stalker and Fuyumi getting hurt had all gone, replaced by embarrassment. It seems Todoroki-san neglected to put _some _details of last night's encounter in his email.

...

Shouto lay in bed, rereading his previously blank notebook now almost used up with pictures and notes. He didn't remember most of the images there occurring, but that didn't matter because his heart felt so full anyway. He was going to interview Natsuo again the next day; he had so much memories on his favorite sibling that a few hours hadn't been enough to record them. Shouto probably would have had more time if he didn't decide to raid the attic before their impromptu date at the town Mini Stop but in any case, he didn't think anyone would come up there and find all of Touya's pictures missing from the albums. Remembering was forbidden business in this house, but Todoroki males had always been daredevils as their grandmother liked to say.

Shouto had been so focused on the present he didn't immediately see the key to changing Touya's future lies in the past. Why had he run away? What had to change now so that Touya would agree to come home? And how would Shouto use the answers to his advantage? He had improved his game plan by employing Yaoyorozu's service and deciding to talk to Natsuo rather than working on assumptions alone: Shouto will tackle the issue from two major points at once, and once he knew how to help Touya for both previous and current problems, he will ride the first train out to Tokyo and make things right. Maybe he should bring their siblings along to push his argument even further once he'd formulated one. Maybe even Obaa-san.

His phone dinged and he shot up. Time to update his notes.

**All Things Cre8i [infinitepeaches]  
**_good evening, Todoroki-san. are you there?_

**t. shouto [todoroki_shouto] (you)  
**_Yes, Yaoyorozu. I've been waiting for you. How are you?_

**All Things Cre8i  
**_good, thank you. I was able to do some research tonight._

**All Things Cre8i  
**_please standby as I write them down, okay?_

**You  
**_Thank you so much, Yaoyorozu._

**All Things Cre8i  
**_but first... _

She sent an image (_seen 10:59_) and Shouto groaned. Reception was terrible in his area and it wouldn't load unless he got up and walked a few blocks away from home. He slapped himself lightly to wake up, put on his slippers and dragged himself out the window and over the fence, and started walking in the general direction of the Koda residence. He remembered Katsuki whining out the irony that their most recluse friend should live where internet signal was the strongest in the whole village and smiled. The wind suggested autumn was holding its breath upon them, waiting for their little world's curtains to rise on its ruddy face.

Shouto read Yaoyorozu's accounts of the day, muscle memory guiding him to Koji's farm. She was kind enough to be nearly as detailed as he had been writing about yesterday and he smiled at the things she told her. He stopped in his tracks when she got to the part about Touya meeting her mother—he had been the epitome of manners without pretension while apologizing for the delay in keeping his promise (enough to please even the (apparently) notoriously stuffy Mrs. Yaoyorozu) and graciously promised to walk Momo home again for as long as was required of him, never once pertaining to his involvement in the whole affair. Just as the Touya Shouto knew would. Yaoyorozu had even been able to acquire his number to let them know he made it home safe and Shouto's heart rushed to fuel his elation. She sent him a screenshot of the text message telling her he made it to the train without any problems... but it wouldn't load.

Again with the suppressed panic. What was he doing out of bed again? Any little speed bump on this journey to Touya was proving to be bad to his nerves. Should he walk a little further? Should he give up? Should he blame their god-of-Wi-Fi-forsaken location and go to bed with foolish assurance that yesterday was as real as today based on nothing but a stranger's name on his palm and a burn on the back of his opposite hand? Or was it wiser to wake up the next day with zero audacity to hope, just to preserve himself from anymore familial heartbreak?

He massaged his left eye and shut his eyes tight. He remembered how he felt yesterday pretending to text his mother, and thought about how even _reality _cannot take that feeling away from him. It's alright. It's alright. He was overreacting and just needed to wait for the image to load. He refreshed the screen with calm determination and there was Yaoyorozu's screenshot. He imagined his brother's voice reading out the message and pretended it was for him, over and over and over again. His grip shook in his joy that he accidentally swiped at the screen.

"In the name of love..." he muttered. And to ground himself easier the following days, he immediately saved the attachment and set it as his wallpaper. He had no reason to doubt anything anymore; there was no turning back. It was going to be alright...

Shouto's hand found his bangs as he stared at the image of Ashido's hairclip held up between Yaoyorozu's thumb and forefinger.

* * *

**A/N:**

how is everyone holding up. the me from my last update is yelling psyche but at what cost amirite

i hope your government leaders aren't trash. if they are, i hope your local leaders are okay. i hope You're okay and i hope you feel better soon. soul hugs to each of you. we'll get by, we'll get through. ingat. mwah mwah


End file.
